“Didn’t say that. But your Marie-Terese Boudreau is an identity cooked up by a guy in Las Vegas. As far as I can tell, it was created about five years ago and first used by some lady who ended up in Venezuela. Then your girl bought the documents the year before last, traveled east and settled in Caldwell, New York. Address is One Eighty-nine Fern Avenue. Has a cell phone.” The digits rolled off his boss’s tongue and went right into Jim’s razor-sharp memory. “On her income taxes, her W-twos are from a place called ZeroSum, and then at the end of last year, for about a month, the Iron Mask. Occupation listed as dancer in both places. Dependent is one.”

“Who is she really?”

There was a pause. “Well, now, isn’t that the question.”

The satisfaction in that deep voice was not the kind of thing you ever wanted to hear: It meant your balls were in a vise grip and someone with a sadistic stretch a mile long had his hand on the crank.

Jim closed his eyes. “I’m not coming back. I told you when I left, I’m out.”

“Come on, Zacharias, you know the drill. A toe tag is the only way you’re truly done with us. The only reason I let you have a little vacation was because you were too close to the edge. But what do you know, you sound soooo much better now.”

Jim fought the urge to punch his fist through the wall. “For once in your miserable, godforsaken life, can you do something without expecting anything back? Try it. Maybe you’ll like it. You could start now.”

“Sorry. Everything is a negotiation.”

“Did your father beat the morality out of you? Or were you just born a shit?”

“You could ask him, but he’s been dead for years. Poor guy got in the way of my bullet. Damn shame, really.”

Jim bit his frickin’ lip and clenched every muscle in his jaw and neck. “Please…I need to know about her. Just tell me. It’s important.”

Naturally, Matthias the fucker didn’t fall for the mother-may-I shit. “The ‘favor’ I supposedly owe you only gets you so far. Then if you want more, you have to give me something to earn it. Up to you. And before you ask, the assignment I have in mind is right up your alley.”

“I don’t kill people anymore.”

“Hmm.”

“Matthias, I need to know who she is.”

“I’m sure you do. And you know where to find me.”

The line went dead, and for a moment, Jim seriously considered firing the phone across the room. The only thing that stopped him was Dog, who lifted his sleepy head and somehow managed to drain the urge right out of Jim’s arm.

He dropped the phone on the bedspread.