Lindstrom grinned. “My mom always told me I was special. Reality’s a little different.” Her bag was as large as Ricki Flatt’s. Black leather, authoritative straps and buckles.

“Mutual friend,” said Milo. “Now who might that be?”

“Yesterday, he was Hal. Today?” She shrugged.

“You guys love that, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Top-secret clandestine hooh-hah.”

“Only when it gets the job done.” She studied me. “We need to talk in private, Lieutenant.”

“This is Dr. Delaware, our psychological consultant.”

“You have your own profiler now?”

“Better,” said Milo. “We’ve got someone who knows what he’s doing.”

“Looks like I caught you on a bad day,” said Lindstrom.

“Not hard to do.”

She offered me a cool, firm palm. “Nice to meet you, Doctor. No offense but I need to speak to Lieutenant Sturgis in private.”

Milo said, “That’s not how it’s gonna be.”

A long, whispered phone call later, and I was authorized.

Gayle Lindstrom peered into Milo’s office. “Kind of cozy for three.”

Milo said, “I’ll find us space.”

“I like Indian food, Lieutenant.”

He glared at her.

Lindstrom said, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Not hungry.” He marched up the corridor.

Lindstrom said, “Oh, well,” and followed.

Back to the same interview room. I wondered if it ever got used for suspects.

Gayle Lindstrom sniffed the air.

Milo said, “This is as fresh as it’s gonna get. I’m busy. Talk.”

Lindstrom said, “Enough icebreaking, guys. Don’t coddle me ’cause I’m a girl.”

Coaxing a smile out of Milo. He hid it with the back of his hand. Yawned.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “What do you know about eco-terrorism?”

Milo said, “Uh-uh, this isn’t going to be some theoretical discussion. You want what we know, you better fill in the blanks. Desmond Backer’s lost decade smells real bad. Doreen Fredd was a naughty girl who ended up as either a confederate or your informant. Go.”

Lindstrom nudged her bag with one foot. “I’m here because the Bureau figured it was only a matter of time before you figured out some of what’s going on.”

“Some? Don’t swell my head.”

“If you knew all of it you wouldn’t be trying to reach Hal. Who, by the way, can’t help you. He’s Homeland Security, so he’s concentrating on people with dark skin and funny names. So is the Bureau, for that matter, which is part of the problem. Before 9/11, we were geared up to spend serious time and money on locally grown lunatics who, in my humble opinion, pose just as serious a danger to public safety as some guy named Ahmed.”

“Everything stopped to look for Ahmed.”