“I got your calls! My finger is raw from hitting redial!”

“Easy, muchacho.” I’d never seen Ryan so worked up.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

“My phone took on a wee bit of water.” Again I spread my arms.

For the first time, Ryan noticed my condition. Normally, he’d have gone all Don Rickles on my après–koi pond appearance. Instead, he thundered on. “This is amateur hour, Brennan.”

Amateur? That did it. The smile crumbled. “Are you accusing me of being unprofessional?”

“Sloppy. Inconsiderate. Stupid. Irresponsible. Shall I continue?”

“I may have found Ruben.”

Ryan was in full tirade and not hearing a word. “We didn’t come here for a Boy Scout Jamboree. Scar and his pals play hard, and they play for keeps.”

“Take a lap, Ryan.”

“Did you just tell me to take a lap?”

“Ease back on the drama.”

“Every cop in Yellowknife is looking for you. That drama enough?”

With that, Binny fired up the block, skinny legs pumping like mad. At the corner, he cut a right and disappeared from view.

“Now, that was unprofessional.” I met Ryan’s glare with my own.

“Get in the car.” Ryan stepped around me and wrenched open the passenger-side door.

“That kid might have useful information.”

“Get in.”

I didn’t move.

“Get in the goddamn car.”

I threw myself into the passenger seat, slammed the door, buckled up, and chest-crossed my arms.

Ryan slid behind the wheel, drew in and released a ten-mile breath. His jaw clenched, unclenched, then he keyed a number into his mobile. “I have her.” He waited out a response. “You’ve got that right. We’re heading for the Explorer.”

After repocketing the phone, Ryan secured his belt, started the engine, and joined the traffic on Fiftieth.

“Don’t forget to cancel the choppers and dogs.” Keeping my eyes straight ahead, my mouth hooked down at the corners.

Icy silence.

Fine. I was mad, too. But also humiliated. Rainwater had obviously talked to Ollie following his conversation with Chalker. Ollie had phoned Ryan. My cheeks burned at the thought of how many others had been put on alert.

Jesus.

Ryan finally spoke when we pulled up at the Explorer. “Ring when you’re ready.”

Back in my room, I took a very long, very hot shower. Screw Ryan. Let him wait.

After toweling off, I blow-dried my hair, all the while staring at my reflection in the mirror. Middling thick hair, not long or short, not blond or brown. A few tentative grays sending out feelers.

While applying mascara, I studied myself some more. Jawline still tight. Angry green eyes between upper and lower lids holding firm.

By the time I’d added lipstick and blush, my reflection appeared almost composed.

Except for my chin. Which had donated a lot of skin to the koi pond rocks.