Several cars drove by. The interior light went off. She did not want to look at the front of the car.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Clarence,” he said.

“I’ve seen you … .”

“Dunne,” he added.

A thought struck, and she felt frightened.

“You called me Miss Lang.”

Shit, Dunne thought, a rookie mistake.

“Just trying to see if you’d wake up.”

How the fuck does he know my cover? she asked herself. She moved back into the car.

“You should keep still,” he said.

“How’d you know that was my name?”

“Went through your bag looking for I.D. But, don’t worry, I didn’t take anything.”

She saw her bag on the front seat. There was glass on it.

Using both feet she kicked him in the stomach and pushed him back. She shut the door. Glass from the windshield fell into the car.

“Stay away!” she yelled. “Stay back!”

Dunne stepped toward the front of the car. He held his hands up. He spoke through the windshield frame.

“You’re right. I lied. I didn’t go through your bag. I was following you.”

Lancette wished she had a gun.

“Why?” she shouted.

“Because we were both looking for someone in the same place.”

“What place? Where?”

She looked around her car. Maybe she could find a loose screwdriver, a socket wrench.

“The Gauntlet,” Dunne said.

She wondered if he had called an ambulance. How long had she been out? How long does it take for an ambulance to arrive?

“And?”

“And I thought we might see if our searches overlapped.”

“And how’d you know I’d been there?”

“An associate of mine saw the business card you left behind there.”

“So you followed me?”

“Went by your office tonight, saw you leaving. Took a shot. Got lucky.”

“Instead of just approaching me?”

“My mistake. I apologize. I wanted to see what I could learn about you before I did approach you. But it’s a good thing I did—”

“Yeah, real good. How do I know you weren’t driving that car?”

“Guess you don’t,” Dunne said. “But it’s unlikely I tried to kill you and then called 911, isn’t it?”

Lancette could see flashing lights down the highway.

“Listen,” Dunne said. “I was chief of security at the White House. And these days I’m not on Jake Grayton’s A-list. I saw you with him tonight. So maybe it’s stupid for me to be talking to you.”

She didn’t say anything. She heard a siren getting louder.

“I think we should have a chat and see if we have any mutual interests.”

First Walters, she thought, then Grayton, then someone tries to kill me, now this guy wants to talk.

“Maybe,” she said.

Dunne stepped toward the door of the car.

“But stay the fuck back for now!” she yelled at him.

He stood still.