I thought back to when we’d gone after Little Joe’s first hitman—Bert—and how she’d tried to stop me. Had it been more than a test? Had she worried that the hitman might be someone she knew? Someone she hadn’t wanted me going after?

Could Evelyn be involved? Could that be why she’d been so adamant about joining the search, to keep an eye on our progress? I didn’t know her well enough to form an opinion. Someone at this table did, and I knew I had to ask, but wasn’t sure how I could. Whatever his quarrel with Evelyn over me, there was a deep history between them, an almost parental relationship. What if Jack couldn’t bring himself to consider the possibility—

“For two hundred million?” he said. “Or a decent cut? Yeah. She’d do it.”

I blinked. “Wha—?”

“Evelyn. The big question. Could she be part of this.”

“Was I talking out loud?”

A tiny smile and shake of his head. “We were talking about Evelyn. Her and Wilkes. You went quiet. Looked worried.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t take ESP.”

“And you think the answer is yes? That she could be involved?”

He sipped his coffee. “Gut reaction? No. But that’s not good enough. Question’s there. Needs an answer. From the head. Not the gut. Could she?” He stared out the window at the passing cars. “Not impossible.”

“You think, if someone offered her a cut of two hundred million—”

I stopped and realized what I was saying. How many people would help a killer if it meant a share of that kind of money?

I continued, “But she has to be smart enough to know the government would never pay that much—”

“She is. But is this it? The final play? Maybe there’s more. Some…way of getting it. Even a partial payment…” He paused, still watching traffic. “Bigger question? Would she work with Wilkes? Can’t see it.”

“So you think we should—?”

“Dismiss it? Can’t. Like I said. It’s a question. Needs an answer. How?” He tapped the menu. “Eat first.”

The server approached, refilled our coffees and started to leave again. We had to call her back to place an order. She seemed a bit put out, as if this shift demanded little more of her than carrying around a pot of fresh coffee and that was how she liked it.

After she left, I said, “Back to Evelyn knowing Wilkes’s real name. How much good will that do us?”

“Depends.”

“On how much he still uses it for anything.”

“Yeah.”