“It seems to me we’ve discussed this enough,” I say over the blasting air-conditioning, which is going to chill me to my marrow because my clothes are so damp. “I don’t have time to ride around with you right now, and I need to make some effort to clean up before dinner.”

I start to get out, and he reaches for my arm again.

CHAPTER 3

STAY.” HE SAYS IT as if he’s addressing his German shepherd Quincy, who’s currently not in the cage in back. As it turns out, in addition to being a failed cadaver dog, he’s also a fair-weather man’s best friend.

Named after the legendary medical examiner on TV, this Quincy doesn’t venture out to any crime scene when the conditions are inclement. I suspect Marino’s furry sidekick is safely at home right now on his Tempur-Pedic bed in the den with the air-conditioning and DOGTV on.

“I’m going to drop you off the last damn fifty feet. Sit and enjoy the cool,” Marino says.

I move my arm because I don’t like being grabbed even gently.

“You need to hear me out.” He shoves the gearshifter in drive. “Like I said, I didn’t want to go into it over the phone. We sure as hell can’t know who’s spying anymore, right? And if Bryce is compromising the CFC’s security or yours I want us to find out before it’s too late.”

I remind Marino that we use personal proprietary smartphones and have the benefit of encryption, firewalls and all sorts of special and highly secure apps. It’s unlikely that our conversations or e-mails can be hacked. My computer-genius-niece Lucy, the CFC cyber-crimes expert, makes very sure of that.

“Are you talking with her at all about any of this?” I ask. “If you’re so worried we’re being spied on don’t you think you could take it up with her? Since that’s her job?”

Just as I’m saying this my phone rings and it’s Lucy requesting her own version of FaceTime, meaning she’d like us to see each other as we talk.

“What timing,” I say right off as her keenly pretty face fills the display on my phone. “We were just talking about you.”

“I’ve only got a minute.” Her eyes are green lasers. “Three things. First, my mom just called and her plane is going to be delayed a little bit. Well, I shouldn’t say a little bit even if that’s how she described it. We don’t know for how long at this point. And I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on with air traffic control. But there’s a hold on all outbound traffic at the moment.”

“What’s she being told?” I ask as my heart sinks.