“That’s what my roommate said this morning too. That if I was confused about what I’d heard, I should discuss it with the person involved. I know there must be a simple explanation.”

The girl was talking in riddles. “An explanation for what?”

“For your phone conversation on the terrace Sunday—after the worship service.”

Somehow he managed to hold on to his expression of calm, sympathetic concern.

But inside, an alarm siren began blaring.

The squeak he’d heard while talking to Razor hadn’t been a shutter being pummeled by the wind.

Kayla had been out there.

His heart missed a beat, and his lungs locked.

This was a disaster.

Or . . . was it?

He studied her earnest, hopeful face. Kayla trusted him. It was clear she didn’t want to believe that what she’d heard meant what she was afraid it did. She was open to persuasion.

And he was excellent at pleading his case—a skill he’d polished through the years. One that had allowed him to wheedle generous contributions from heavy hitters for the drug treatment center downtown.

But he’d never needed it as desperately as he did now.

He smoothed a hand down the front of his jacket.

Play this cool, Tyrone. If the conversation on Sunday was of no consequence, you’d barely remember it. You’d be confused by Kayla’s comment. Keep up that pretense—and buy yourself a few minutes to think through the best way to handle this.

Summoning up every ounce of his acting skills, he put on a puzzled frown. “This is about a phone conversation I had?”

“Yes.” She twisted her hands together in her lap, anguish darkening her eyes. “I was coming out of the bathroom, and I saw you go out onto the terrace without your coat, holding your phone. I thought it was an emergency call you had to take, and I knew you’d get cold. I followed you to ask if you wanted me to get your coat. But after I heard part of the conversation, I . . . I didn’t know what to think—and I got scared.”

“I’m trying to recall the exchange, Kayla—but I get dozens of calls every day. Tell me what you heard, and I’ll be happy to clear up any misunderstanding.”

She swallowed. “You were angry—and you mentioned the Feds. It sounded like the person you were talking to was being watched. You said there was a pickup Wednesday, and that wasn’t the best time for a tail. Ivy Hill was involved somehow—along with someone here. An inside person, I think you said. You also talked about Stephanie. I got the feeling she’d walked into a bad situation—and you knew about it.” She picked at her cuticle. “It was all very confusing—and upsetting.”