Caitlin rubbed her eyes so hard she saw spots. Then she set her elbows on her knees and gave Glass an unguarded gaze. “When I was thirteen, I worked at one of my father’s newspapers. I saw some photographs there that had just been shot in El Salvador. A massacre by a death squad. A lady who worked at our paper was so proud that a young American woman had shot those pictures. Do you remember who shot them?”

Jordan tapped the coffee table as though bored or frustrated. “Me.”

“Those pictures went a long way toward leading me to where I am now.”

Glass’s smile looked forced. She’d obviously heard this kind of thing a thousand times before. Her eyes focused somewhere in the darkness across the lobby. “I’m not the same person I was then. I’m tired. I’m ready to stop—for a while anyway.” She put her face in her hands and massaged her temples as though to relieve a headache. “I’m not that girl who sneaked into a village and shot those pictures anymore.” She looked up at Caitlin. “But you are. That’s why I gave you that advice. You’re not thinking straight right now, because of what happened. But tomorrow you will be again.”

Caitlin had never felt so validated as she did in that moment.

“John’s not exactly himself right now, either,” Jordan said. “You should know that. When you criticized the Bureau out there, it really hurt him.”

Caitlin shrugged, but she didn’t apologize.

“John knows the Bureau failed all those years ago. It failed the murder victims, the families, even its own agents. He wants to make that right. When he tells you he’s on your side, he means it.”

“He’s gotten a lot done in a short time, I’ll give him that.”

“Thanks to Henry and Penn. And you.”

Caitlin was suddenly nervous. “I haven’t done anything yet. But I’m going to.”

Jordan’s eyebrows rose. “Something you probably shouldn’t be doing?”

“That depends on your point of view.”

“What’s your plan? Just between us and the coffee table? No shit.”

What the hell? Caitlin thought, suddenly realizing that she trusted Jordan Glass more than many people she’d known for years. “I want to find Pooky Wilson’s bones. I think Pooky and Jimmy may have been killed or dumped at the same place.”

“And you know where that is?”

“Maybe. I’ve got a good lead. One nobody else has. Maybe that’s what I’ll keep for myself.”

“Does Penn know what you know?”

“No.”

Jordan smiled in the shadows. “A girl after my own heart. So where are these mysterious bones?”