“A nice tough-guy act. I ain’t going anywhere. You give me a minute, then I’ll give you yours.”

He turned his back to her and resumed the phone conversation. He waved a hand at her. She stepped out of the office and leaned against the wall. A shirtless waiter came over and asked if she wanted a drink. She stopped him with a sharp “no.”

“Be nice,” he replied. “Us girls have to stick together.”

Lopez opened the door and offered her a chair.

“Still looking for a monkey with a glass eye?”

“Did you tell anyone I was looking for them?” she said.

“Fuck you. You come into my place of business, ask me for a favor, to help you find someone. But you won’t give me his precious name. I say I’ll see what I can do but ask you to stay out of here. And then two days later, you barge in here … . Tell me, what sort of relationship do we have, Miss”—he picked up the business card she had left—“Lang?”

“Somebody ran me off the road last night. Nearly …”

Lopez looked at the bandage on her forehead. A moment passed before he responded.

“So what? A drunk on the road. A bad driver. An old boyfriend. Ain’t got nothing to do with me.”

Lancette placed her hands on the desk. She took a breath and it hurt. She wanted to wince. Instead, she smiled at him.

“I am sorry to be so rude. It’s irritating to be chased off the road and nearly killed. I was just wondering if you had told anyone I had come in here looking for that former employee.”

“You wanted me to find the guy, didn’t you? Yeah, I mentioned it … . But I think you should leave now.”

“I will, if you tell me who you told.”

“Sorry. That don’t fly—especially when you won’t tell me what you’re really doing here.”

“Okay, Mr. Lopez, enough bullshit,” she said. “I work for a government agency. And I was informed that this fellow might possess information related to a serious federal crime—”

“The details of which, of course, you are not at liberty to discuss.”

God damnit, she thought to herself, why am I doing this? Should I tell him it’s about the assassination of President Hanover?

“Got a badge?” he asked.

“Are you harboring a person possessing information pertaining to a federal crime?”

She was trying to sound as official as she could.

“Not that I am aware of. And that’s all that counts. You can’t obstruct what you are not aware of.”

“And you don’t want to assist?”

“And you don’t want to flash a badge?”

“I don’t work for law enforcement.”