I swallowed, hard, took a deep breath, and opened the truck door. We strode toward the office, shoulder to shoulder, Earl holding his gun down at his right side. Three sets of handcuffs, which Trixie had run across the street to fetch before we left Earl’s, jingled in my jacket pocket. Trixie had decided against giving me the fur-lined ones for Greenway, since it would be a dead giveaway where we’d gotten our restraining devices. She claimed not to have much use for him, but didn’t see any advantage in advertising her disregard. I couldn’t argue with that.

Earl, between puffs, suggested we circle the building once. Peeking through blinds, we saw Greenway behind his desk, lecturing a sheepish Carpington sitting across from him. All the other rooms were dark, indicating to us that we had only two people to deal with.

“But Rick might be coming back at any time,” I whispered.

“We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” Earl whispered back.

We came back around the front of the building and I gripped the handle, squeezing gently and pushing to see whether it was locked. It was.

“Knock,” Earl said.

I rapped on the door. There was some stirring inside, then Greenway’s voice from behind the wood. “Who is it?”

My mind raced. “Rick!” I said. I forced my voice a little lower, trying to approximate Rick’s tone.

“Where’s your key?”

Would Rick have the patience to explain? I decided not. “Just open the fucking door!” I shouted.

I heard the bolt turn back, and once the door had cleared the latch, Earl put his boot to it. The door swung wide into the darkened outer office and Earl forced his way in ahead of me, gun slightly raised at two o’clock. Once we were both inside, I closed the door and locked it, and saw Greenway sprawled out on the floor and Carpington standing in the door of Greenway’s office, looking more or less petrified.

“Both of you,” Earl said, sounding very much in control, “in one place, please.” He motioned, with his gun hand, for Greenway to get up and back into his office.

“Please don’t shoot us,” Carpington whined.

“Shut up,” Earl said, shoving Greenway ahead of him into his office. He took his spot back behind his desk while Carpington retreated into the chair across from it.

“Cuff ‘em, Zack,” Earl said. And I thought, If only I had a nickel for every time someone has said that to me. By now, I’d have five cents.

Carpington was wide-eyed with horror, while Greenway tried harder to look composed, thinking maybe if he exuded confidence we’d be unnerved, that maybe he knew something we didn’t. It might work. Even though we had the drop on them, I was definitely unnerved.