Black SUVs pack the front circle at Jack’s home. Wayne pulls to a stop on the street.

“Guess you’ll need to get out here,” he says. “You good with your luggage?”

“Are you not coming in?”

“Nah. Someone’s gotta show up for work. Especially with this shit show.” He grins, but he does so in a way my fingers itch to grip my Glock. “Nah, you’ve got enough cooks in that kitchen and I’d be nothing but a lookey-loo. I can do far more for Jack back at the office. Is he gonna go public with this ransom?”

“Haven’t spoken to him yet about his strategy.”

“Eh. I pulled our ads for right now. What a fucking nightmare.” He twists his head back and forth and exhales. “You guys have a good day. Bring Sophia home, you hear?”

“Right.” I tap the roof of the car and wave as he drives away. I’m too on edge. Overly reactive to everyone and everything.

Alex and I approach Jack’s front doors side by side. Through the glass, I count six different suits. The video camera on the far right overhang swivels in our direction. The glass globes around the vegetation in the courtyard remain stagnant. The front door opens before we reach it.

Agent Liam Ryland, my FBI contact, watches us approach.

“Turns out I’m on the team. Meeting starts in five. Any trouble getting here?”

“No. We’ve been here before.”

“You staying?” He pointedly looks at the bag across my shoulder and the small black suitcase Alex wheels behind her.

“Only if needed.”

“I can take our bags up to the rooms,” Alex offers. “I’ll be right back.”

I should let her go. I should greet all the agents. But I follow her. She’s acting strange. Whatever’s going on needs to be resolved. I need her to have my six if we’re going to be outnumbered by a swarm of territorial agents.

She pushes open the guest suite door. Fresh flowers are out on the table, just as before. Alex rolls her suitcase into the room she stayed in last week. I drop my bag on the bed in her room. She raises one solitary eyebrow.

“No one’s coming in here,” I say, knowing she is thinking of our little keeping-it-secret game.

She crosses her arms, and one toe taps the ground. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I want to pull her up against me and interrogate her.

“If there’s…” She huffs and brushes past me. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

Confused, I follow her down the stairs. She has something she wants to say, but damn if I know what it is, and with the strides those long legs make, there’s no time to find out.

Alex and I gather in the back of Sullivan’s home office.

He’s lost weight in the last few days. There’s a greasy film over his unkempt hair. Dark circles shadow the skin below bloodshot eyes, and he sports the beginning of a beard. When we enter, he acknowledges us with a nod, but not much more.