“My understanding from Mike is that they were both quite impressed by you.”

“They’re impressed by what they think I can do for them.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Am I being interrogated? Because that’s what it feels like. What about you, Irene? I’ve known you half my life and it’s pretty clear you don’t like or trust them. Are you staying?”

“I don’t know. At some point a decision is going to be forced on me, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Well, here’s something I’m sure of. When you go, I go. But for now, I’m happy to sit on the sidelines. If the Cooks blow up, I don’t want it to be in my face.”

“You want it to be in mine.”

He laughed. “If those are my two choices, then yeah.”

“It sounds like you have some time on your hands. And if that’s the case, maybe you’d have a few minutes to talk to a friend of mine.”

“About what?”

“He has a problem you might be able to help him with.”

Rapp looked at the bike he was working on. He wanted to say no, but it wasn’t going to happen. Like Scott Coleman, she’d always been there for him. Even when she should have run away screaming.

“Sure. When?”

“If he was at your house in a half an hour, would that work?”

Again, he laughed. “I hate being predictable.”

“You are never that,” she said and then disconnected the call.

He tossed his phone back on the workbench. So much for his afternoon training session.

The arrival of Irene Kennedy’s friend wasn’t exactly what Rapp expected. Not that he’d had anything particular in mind, but a motorcade of three SUVs so heavily armored that they blurred the lines between civilian and military wasn’t it.

“I guess it could have been worse,” Claudia said as they stood together on the front porch. “You could have bought me one of those.”

“They were back-ordered,” he joked.

“Thank goodness. The other parents at Anna’s school already think I’m crazy.”

“Speaking of Anna…” he said as the motorcade glided to a stop inside the courtyard.

“The dogs are with her in her room. I told her she had to stay there until everyone leaves.”

The first men out of the vehicles were serious pros. Probably former operators from Eastern Europe, though Rapp didn’t know any of them personally. He doubted any were much older than thirty. Once they’d had a chance to familiarize themselves with their environment, another man stepped out using a hand to shade his eyes against the sun. He was early sixties, with a full head of hair starting to gray and stylish glasses. Despite his age, he looked reasonably fit, with a runner’s build beneath casual jeans and a white linen shirt.