“Why you looking for her?”

“I have something to deliver.”

“Give it to me. I’ll get it to her.”

“You’ll get it straight to a fence.”

“Can’t fault a man for trying.” The kid grinned broadly, revealing gapped and crooked teeth.

“So you know Nellie Snook?”

“Never said that.”

“Do you know Annaliese Ruben?”

“She an old crone like you?”

“What’s your name?”

“Binny.”

“Binny what?”

“Binny Mind-Your-Own-Business.”

I was sure Binny would peel off when I turned onto Franklin. He didn’t. We’d gone a half block when a thought struck me.

“Hey, shrimp.”

“Yeah, Granny.”

“You know a guy named Horace Tyne?”

“Everyone knows Horace.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s a environmentaler.”

“Environmentalist?”

A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face.

“Lots of people are going green. Why’s Horace so special?”

“Everyone talks a big game. Horace does stuff.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning he tries to save the caribou and shit like that.”

“How’s he going to save the caribou?”

“By creating a preserve. No one can fuck with the herds if they’re on a preserve.”

“Does Grandma approve of your foul language?”

“Does anyone approve of your wrinkly old face?”

“Why aren’t you in school?”

“I’ve got chicken pox.”

Again I thought the kid would take off. Again I was wrong.

Walking along, I rewound my conversation with Nellie. Her question had implied a link between Ruben and Tyne. This kid knew Tyne.

“That KFC open when you were there this morning, shrimp?”

“No. Granny.”

“They open now?”

“Doubt it.”

“You old enough to eat pancakes?”

“You buying?”

“Can we talk about Horace Tyne?”

“Fire up your hearing aid.”

Chapter 20

BINNY AND I WERE APPROACHING FORTY-THIRD STREET WHEN the sound of an engine caused us to glance over our shoulders.

Ryan was at the wheel of a white Toyota Camry. He’d come up from behind and was crawling the curb.

I stopped. Binny hesitated, looked to me, then dropped one sneaker to the sidewalk to brace himself.

Ryan drew up beside us. Through the windshield, I saw him shift into park. Not so gently.

I crossed to the Camry. Binny watched, one foot flexed on a pedal.

Smiling, I leaned down and tapped the passenger-side window. Instead of lowering the glass, Ryan yanked his door handle, launched himself out, and circled the trunk.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” I said. Still smiling.

“What the shit, Brennan?” Ryan’s expression was a wild mix of anger and relief.

“I’m freezing my ass off.” The smile wavered but held.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Binny’s elbows winged up, and his fingers tightened on the handlebar grips. Knowing the kid was about to bolt, I tried diffusing the tension with humor. “Detecting.” Eyebrow wiggle.

“You think this is funny?”

I spread my arms to show the state of my person. “A little.”

“Are you for real?”

“You didn’t get my calls?”