“You’re certain we weren’t followed to Monroe’s office.”

He gave her a nasty look.

She looked through her messages to get Andy Tompkins’s contact information. “What do you think about a road trip?”

“You want to go to Dallas and talk to Tompkins.”

“He knows more than he told Ben.” While Ben was good at getting basic information out of people, it took a face-to-face to find out if they knew more—or if they were lying.

Sean said, “Hold that thought.”

Sean pressed a couple buttons on his GPS navigation, but from this angle Max couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He made a right turn at the light, away from her hotel, and then turned left on a side street.

“Are you trying to lose him?” Max asked. “We need to find out who he is.”

“I already have his license plate,” Sean said, “but I want to talk to him.”

That idea seemed foolhardy, as she couldn’t figure out how he would get the driver to pull over.

Sean slowed down as if he were looking for an address. He turned left, went halfway down the block, then pulled over to the right.

“Open your door, but don’t get out,” Sean said. “When I tell you, shut it. And don’t look back.”

Max didn’t like not knowing the plan, but she did what Sean said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dark sedan drive past, going the speed limit. Sean waited until he was three houses ahead, then said, “Shut it.”

Before her door was fully closed, Sean floored the gas. Max hadn’t realized it, but this was a dead end. The other driver tried to turn in the cul-de-sac, but Sean maneuvered his vehicle and cut him off. The driver slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting him.

Sean jumped out of the car. Max followed suit, but since Sean was armed and she wasn’t, she stood behind him as he approached the driver.

The driver didn’t get out. He rolled down his window. He was a beefy guy in a suit. “Move your car,” he told Sean.

“Tell your boss that if he has me followed again, I’ll make his life a living hell, understood?”

The driver didn’t look fazed. “Now,” he said.

Sean stared at him. “He doesn’t want to fuck with me.”

The driver looked from Sean to Max, then back at Sean. He rolled up his window and smoothly backed up, almost hitting a mailbox, then drove past Sean’s jeep, missing the rear bumper by inches.

“Don’t give me that look,” Sean said. “He wouldn’t tell you anything. But did you notice his hand?” He climbed back into his jeep; Max followed.

“Hand?”

“Burned. That’s the guy Grant said threatened him.”