The property had been purchased by Eady’s banker father, a dollar-a-year man under McNamara. “His brothers and sister haven’t set foot here since the funeral,” Eady’s wife Ruth confided once. “Haven’t looked at a bill, either, though they’re happy enough to question our expenses. Hyenas waiting for Vance to stumble . . .”

Klay wondered if it could be that simple. He guessed Eady earned about a million dollars a year as head of The Sovereign. Then there was his Agency pay.

Klay followed the paved driveway nearly a half mile up toward the main house. The house had been an inn originally. It had nine fireplaces, four upstairs and a big walk-in that filled the dining room. There was a flagstone patio in the back. Most of the horse stables had been converted to a kennel, where Eady kept his prizewinning Jack Russell terriers. Two seldom-used guest cottages lay south of the stables. The spring-fed pond was stocked with rainbows, blue catfish, and triploid grass carp to keep it clean.

Klay pulled into the drive’s final horseshoe and parked behind Eady’s Grand Cherokee. Anyone who knew Eady well enough to visit knew he kept a key under the mat outside the summer kitchen door. No one who visited twice ever bent to look for it. The Eadys never locked the house.

Klay stepped from his vehicle, and a dog shot toward him from beneath a row of boxwoods. A screen door slammed. “Goddamn it!” Eady yelled as he strode briskly across the driveway, flanked by a pack of Jack Russells. “Off!” he yelled.

The jumping dog was big for a Jack Russell. Klay didn’t know whether to pet it or catch it. He was trying to do both when Eady kicked at it, nearly losing his loafer.

“Off!” Eady repeated. “Sorry, Tom. Hankins down the hill lets his goddamn heeler roam free. Got on Integrity’s Desire. I drowned ’em all but this one got away. Off!”

Klay looked down at the energetic mutt. It had the head of a Jack Russell, but its tall body was thicker and spotted the color of newspaper. There was a black bull’s-eye above its right hind leg.

“Anyway, thanks for coming, Tom,” Eady said in his phlegmy bass, offering his hand.

Klay’s mind flashed to Barrow’s words. Bring him into the light, he had said. We’ll take care of the rest. Meaning: find a way to make Eady vulnerable.

Klay turned and reached for something inside his vehicle.

“Did you bring an overnight bag?”

Klay looked up to see Eady moving toward the back of his Land Cruiser, talking, trying to see inside.

“Just this.” Klay showed Eady his backpack.

“Good.” Eady turned. “Good. Okay. Come on in, Tom.”