I started across the street toward the address the suicide victims had visited before they died—the same address Calvin had uncovered as the place to search for the Matchmaker.

++++

Inside the building, Blake directed Sasha to have a seat.

By then, his man had joined them and did not look happy to have been brought down by a woman her size.

Well, too bad.

Blake nodded to the guy, who walked to one of the file cabinets, opened the drawer, and produced a roll of duct tape, a plastic bag, and three zip-ties.

Sasha felt her heart begin jackhammering in her chest.

You need to get out of here. Now.

“We have an enthusiastic viewing audience tonight,” Blake told her. “They’re either going to be treated to a homicide or a suicide. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking. Unless it’s you. Then I might have to make an exception.”

“I’m afraid it’s not me that you need to be concerned about right now. It’s Agent Greer.” He showed her his phone’s screen. “You’re going to decide whether he lives or dies.”

Agent Greer was tied to a chair, and Mannie was standing beside him holding a plastic bag and a duct tape roll of his own.

Blake said homicide or suicide.

Suicide?

No.

“I’m not going to kill myself.”

“Let’s do a practice run and see how all this works,” Blake said. Then he spoke to Mannie through his cell. “Do it.”

Mannie tugged the plastic bag over Greer’s head as the restrained FBI agent tried futilely to lean out of the way. Then Mannie began to loop the duct tape around Greer’s neck to secure the bag in place.

“No!” Sasha cried. “Stop it!”

Greer yanked at his bonds but couldn’t get free. As he tried to breathe, the bag suctioned in against his mouth and nose, sealing off any air that might’ve been in the bag.

Buy time, Sasha. Anything to buy time!

“Take it off! Whatever you want, I’ll do it! Don’t kill him!”

“I don’t believe you,” Blake said.

You’re watching him die. He’s going to die!

“Believe me!”

Blake said into the phone, “Let him breathe.”

Mannie tore the bag open, and Greer gasped, desperately drawing in as much air as he could.

“What do you want from me?” Sasha asked.

“It isn’t just what I want. It’s what they want.” He wavered his phone at her, then glanced at the bottom of the screen. “There are nearly two thousand already.”