Counting Mike, Scott, Tyler, Greg, and Peter, there were thirteen men crowded into a living room meant for six to eight adults. Dining room chairs had to be brought in. She had gone into the kitchen to make coffee and tea and to prepare a plate of whatever baked goods were in the freezer. While everything was brewing, she took the opportunity to size up the enemy.

The two CIA agents were easy to spot. Both of them were good-looking, tall men with broad shoulders and very short hair: one was fair haired, the other was brunette, and that was about the only way she could tell them apart. They could have been cast in the movies to play what they did in real life.

She knew the mayor, Logan Brettly. He was in his fifties with curly white hair, a stocky build, and a bulldog face. In the past, all her dealings with Brettly had been positive. He was a nice man who cared about his constituency. In this setting, he looked decidedly tense.

She supposed the professor with the scant, woolly gray hair was Mordechai Gold. His dress was more collegiate: corduroy jacket with patch pockets over a sweater over a shirt, and slacks with boots on his feet. He had perceptive eyes, taking in everything.

Of the other four men, she guessed that the blond man in his fifties with the perpetual tan was Alex Beckwith, the big-shot American. The suit with him was the lieutenant governor of the state of New York. Being a newcomer, Rina couldn’t remember his name.

The most exotic in style and dress was a man in his fifties, built like a professional wrestler. He wore an expensive jacket with working buttons on the sleeves, and there was a gold Rolex on his wrist, a bejeweled stickpin that kept his tie in place, and a large diamond winked from his pinkie. She figured he had to be the Russian and most likely, he was one of the names that Gerrard had erased from Jason Merritt’s client list. The remaining man looked like a cop: basic suit, tie, and rubber-soled shoes. Irish face, uncomfortable eyes and hands that he continually clasped and unclasped. Probably Chris Mulrooney from Summer Village.

Introductions had been made by the time she brought in the refreshments. She lowered the tray onto the coffee table. Then they thanked her, thinking that she’d make herself scarce.

They were wrong.

Rina sat on the arm of the couch next to Peter. “I’m Mrs. Decker. Depending how this conversation goes, perhaps by the end you can call me Rina.”

McAdams clamped his mouth with his hands to keep from smiling. The mayor grimaced with displeasure.

“Mordy Gold.” The professor stood up. “Please take my chair.”

“I’m fine but thank you.”

“Thank you for allowing us to invade your house. I’m actually the one who went to the officials. I felt that they had to be notified.”