“No matter what Margaret says,” he said, “it will always feel like a tomb.”

At the entrance to Blair House a guard stopped them. No more visitors tonight, the guard had been told.

“I assume Ms. O’Connor is still inside,” Addis said. “Please tell her I’m here.”

The guard picked up the phone. O’Connor was there in less than a minute and escorted them into the building.

“Mind if we use one of the guest rooms?” Addis asked.

O’Connor glanced at Lancette and raised an eyebrow.

“This is Julia Lancette,” Addis said. “She’s an analyst with the secret-keepers across the river. And it’s not like that. Clarence asked me to look after her tonight. And now …”

O’Connor pulled Addis away from Lancette and spoke in whispers.

“What’s friggin’ going on?” she asked.

“I don’t even know. A few nights ago, Julia was driving home and this nut tried to run her off the road. Clarence happened to be—”

“There,” O’Connor interrupted.

“Yeah, and he rammed this other driver, and, I guess, saved her. Right?”

“Yes,” Lancette said, sidling up next to Addis.

“And then she got these threatening calls,” Addis lied. “Like they’re from the same guy. And Clarence thought she should be careful. So when—”

“This sounds like bullshit, Nick,” O’Connor said. She squared off in front of Lancette: “And why is someone after you?”

“No idea,” she replied. “I got my name in the paper a while ago. Said I was with the Agency. Got a few calls from crazies. Asked if I was beaming signals into their fillings. That sort of thing. But nothing like this—”

O’Connor pulled Addis aside. “I don’t believe this. Nick, we’ve always told each other everything.”

“I don’t know everything. But, then, do I know everything you know these days?”

“That’s different,” O’Connor said. He noticed the lines at the side of her eyes were deeper than usual.

“I don’t know if it’s different or not. But I need your help. We have to stay somewhere.”

“Margaret’s already in bed. Why don’t you camp out in the study on the second floor? You can use the couch. The floor. There are some big pillows. A quilt. Is that good enough?”

“Sure, thanks, M. T.”

Addis showed Lancette to the wood-paneled study. They each took a turn in the attached bathroom. He offered her the couch.

“I’ll use some of the pillows,” he said, “and sleep on the floor.”

“Well …”

Is she going to suggest something else?

“That’s nice of you.”

He started to gather the pillows. She found a quilt in a closet and unfolded it.

“But can you set them up right here?” she asked, pointing to the floor next to the couch.

Did she merely want to feel secure? he asked himself.

“My pleasure,” he said.