They both rose when they saw Janis. She motioned them down, pulled out a chair, and gestured for me to sit. I obeyed reluctantly, perching on the spindly, white metal seat pounded into the shape of grape clusters.

“Here we are,” Janis announced, still standing. “I believe you both know Maggie Richter.”

Ray and the detective exchanged a look, and the detective’s fist curled on the table, as if she were steeling herself to say something.

“Nice to see you again,” Detective Ruiz said to me.

I nodded. I had been expecting to see Ray, but not Ray and a police detective. Especially not this detective. I knew that she was sharp, and I also knew I had lied to her last spring during the Kim Lord case. Was this an actual criminal investigation? It couldn’t be. Police and journalists didn’t usually mix well—a police presence could threaten relationships with vulnerable sources, and journalists could make a PR nightmare for cops. “You look well,” I told her.

Then I allowed myself a glance at Ray, who was wearing one of his blank courteous looks. The beard and cap were gone, and his brown hair had been cropped close to his head. He looked thinner somehow, more careworn. He rose and held out his hand, greeting me, his voice even, palm warm and dry, but when we touched, I saw tension jump in his face.

“Maggie has generously agreed to come here without knowing very much about this affair,” Janis said, sitting down. “Ray and Alicia are here to give you the details and explain the legal parameters of what I want you to do.”

What I want you to do. The ownership in that statement did not escape me. No other potential reporters had been vetted, I felt certain now, because Janis could not oversee them the way she intended to oversee me. And yet there was a heaviness in her tone that distracted me, as if beneath her usual clear directives some dark emotion was dragging at her.

A waiter appeared at the table with an inquiring look. Detective Ruiz checked her watch. “Water’s fine,” she muttered.

“Let’s order everything now. We need to eat,” commanded Janis. “Croque Monsieur is ham and cheese. Madame adds an egg.” She tapped at Ray’s menu. “Madame is too rich if you ask me. But you do what you want.”

“Sounds great,” Ray said to Janis. “You choose for me.” He handed her his menu.

Detective Ruiz rubbed her forehead with a manicured finger. “Why don’t you order for all of us. If that’s okay with Maggie,” she said, then added without waiting, “Light on the garlic; I’ve got meetings all afternoon.”