“Pete’s sake, Mary Louise. This isn’t asking you to go into the Georgia mud for a month. It would be a big help if you could take care of the setup. I don’t want to discuss what I want on the phone, but I can come over tonight or tomorrow morning and explain it.”

“No!” she snapped. “You’re not to come anywhere near this place.”

“What on earth is going on?” I was hurt more than baffled. “What have I done to you?”

“I—you—Vic, I can’t do any more work for you. You take too many risks.”

“You made it through ten years in the department, but I take so many risks you can’t even go to the Unblinking Eye for me?” I slammed the phone down so hard my palm smarted.

Was I really more dangerous to work for than the Chicago police? I fumed, pacing the room. If she could go down dark alleys after drug dealers, why couldn’t she at least go to the camera store and arrange for a video monitor for me? And all she’d say was she wasn’t going to put the children at risk. As if I were asking her to use them as human shields.

I came to a halt by my desk. Of course. Someone had threatened the children. That was what had happened. My hand hovered over the phone, then I thought better of it. If BB was monitoring my calls, then he’d assume Mary Louise had squealed. Then he might really go after the children. I felt trapped, and horribly alone. I sat with my head in my hands, trying not to cry.

“Vic! What’s wrong?” Tessa was leaning over me, her face lively with concern.

I rubbed a hand through my hair. “Nothing. I’m feeling sorry for myself, which is a disastrous indulgence for a detective. You taking off?”

“My appointed knight has arrived. It’s time for me to go, or have my mother show up with the FBI.”

She gestured toward the door and a man came in. He was tall and dark, almost as dark as Tessa herself, with fine–drawn features and the easy manner you get growing up with a lot of money. I could see why Mrs. Reynolds thought he looked like good husband material.

“Don’t sit here brooding alone,” Tessa said. “We’ll take you down to the Glow or some other place where you can be with friends.”

I pushed myself upright. The soreness in my legs was fading, that was one thing to be thankful for—a tribute to my daily workouts, or maybe just my DNA.

“It’s not such a good idea right now for you to hang out with me.” I tried not to seem melodramatic, and sounded pompous instead. “Anyway, I’m going to see a priest, so I’ll be in good hands.”