“I’d forgotten it’s Halloween today,” Cooper said, watching absently as they walked up the path to the house.

He had the clearest memory of standing in the shadow of a hedge in a rich neighborhood similar to this where everyone went hoping to get full-size candies. Completely under a sheet he wasn’t allowed to cut holes in, all he could see were his own sneakers, the pavement beneath them, and the occasional passing shadow and laughter of other kids.

He remembered thinking, he would never move from that spot. No one would ever find him, talk to him, or look at him again. He could just stand there under the sheet and disappear forever. The idea had thrilled and terrified him equally. How...disconnected he’d felt to the world. How he’d always felt slightly out of step with others.

Cooper rang the elegant four-tone doorbell, Park at his back. No one answered. But as they waited, a second car pulled into the driveway behind theirs. Out stepped Cola.

“Following us?” Cooper asked, a little irritated.

“Like I don’t have an entire secret agency to do that for me,” she said, walking right across the grass, seemingly not giving one fuck that her heels sank with every step, leaving holes in the turf. She stopped beside them on the stoop. “Reached out to undercover this morning, what with one of the subjects of their ongoing investigations turning up dead and all.”

“And?” Cooper asked. “Did they have anything to add?”

“There is no investigation,” Cola said bluntly. “They’d never even heard of Arthur Crane, which explains why I wasn’t flagged that he’d fallen on to their radar.”

Cooper shook his head, confused. “But Neil—”

“Neil Gerhart resigned last year,” Cola interrupted. “Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t for the FBI.”

Cooper was shocked. “Resigned?” Neil’s life was undercover. It was the only thing Cooper had ever really believed Neil loved. “Why?”

“The words ‘forced out’ weren’t said, but it was heavily implied,” Cola said. “He was behaving increasingly erratically, secretive and paranoid, always liable to go off and do his own thing; he wasn’t bringing in the results they’d used as an excuse to look the other way anymore. He also seemed convinced of some kind of cover-up within the agency.” She shrugged. “Probably wasn’t wrong, but madness to outright say to the very people you’re accusing. Due to his career record, he was given the option to retire.”

“What the hell is he doing working as Genevieve Crane’s assistant?” Cooper asked.

“I asked Genevieve a similar question this morning and she had some pretty interesting things to say. Namely that J.T. was obsessed with her husband, was constantly trying to get her to talk about him, that he’d frequently initiate sex with her when she was due to see Arthur soon and then after ask if she thought he could tell.”