Grier frowned, but before she could ask anything further, he got up and said, “Your former client is in over his head if he’s gone AWOL from them. He can’t save himself and you can’t help him or save him, either. If that Isaac character shows up here again, call me immediately.” He swept the card, the cloth strips, and the transmitter up and put them in the pocket of his fleece. “I won’t let you get into this mess, Grier.”

“What are you going to do with all that?”

“I’m going to make sure it is clear that you no longer represent Isaac Rothe, that you are going to have nothing to do with him, and that if you see him again, you will be contacting me directly. I will explain that you chose none of this and that you are eager to move along. And most important, I will state emphatically that you were told absolutely nothing by him. Which is the truth, isn’t it?”

The hard look in his eye told her that even if that wasn’t the case, she’d better be damned sure to maintain it was.

“He never said a word to me about what he’d done or why he was on the run. Not one word.” As Grier watched her father sag with relief, her frustration eased up. “Dad . . .”

She went to him, slipping her arms around his waist and hugging him for a long moment.

“I’ll call you in one hour,” he said. “Turn the system on.”

“The phone lines are tapped.”

“I know.”

Grier stiffened. “How long have they been?”

“Since the very beginning. Some forty years ago.”

God, why was she even surprised . . . and yet the violation left a bad taste in her mouth. Like so much of this did.

After she showed him the door, she locked herself in and hit the alarm, then went into the study and peeked out the window to watch his Mercedes pull away from the curb and take off down Pinckney Street toward Charles.

When she could no longer see his taillights, she put her hand into her pocket and got out the things she’d taken from his when they’d embraced: The Life Alert and the business card and the strips of cloth had not in fact left with him.

Alistair Childe had been absolutely correct about one thing: She was nothing if not his daughter.

Which meant she wasn’t going to be sidelined in this.

You’re crazy, you know that, her ghostly brother said from beside her.

“Not a news flash.” She glanced over at him. “I’ve been talking to a dead guy for the past two years.”

This is serious, Grier.

She looked down at the things in her hands. “Yes. I know.”

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 22