Wagner turns the Ford sharply off the tar and onto a dirt road that snakes past the fence of an agistment pasture and into the trees. Finally they pull onto the road to the property. There’s a farm gate, and overhanging trees that peel back to reveal a large old house: single story, shaded wooden porch. Nearby, the barn.

“Well, here we are,” Wagner says. “You said your grandfolks wanted privacy.”

“Yes, for sure,” Hoyt agrees. He’s careful to keep the accent steady.

“Damn nice of you to come get the place set up for them. Lord knows, I wish my grandkids would do the same for me.”

They step high over the long-neglected grass to the porch. Wagner walks Hoyt through the house, noting the difficulties of the proposed renovation and how that will bring the price down. “But a young fella like yourself, you won’t have any trouble with the work.”

“Mm.” Hoyt makes some noises about a generator for power tools. He has no trouble spinning the tale to fill in the detailed edges: He does want to improve the house. He wants to fix the guttering, clean the place up. He has plans. Big plans.

At last they walk to the barn. From the moment he stepped out of the car, Hoyt has felt the presence of the barn nearby like a fizz in his blood. Now Wagner pulls open the great door, reveals the extent of it. Hoyt crosses the threshold, feeling like he’s entering a church.

“Concrete floor,” Wagner points out approvingly. “Lots of natural light. Hayloft. Faucets there hook up to tank water. Just the one stall, over on the left—rest of the space is open. I think they used it mainly for machinery. You got the grease drain in the floor and the big crossbeams there. See the chain? They were lifting John Deere engines here, most likely.”

Hoyt finds it hard to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Granddad said it’ll be good to have someplace I can lock up tools while I’m working on the place.”

“Well, it’s secure.” Wagner slaps the solid hardwood walls. “Better condition than the house, really. And if you’re running a drop saw, a nail gun, and so on, you’re far enough away from neighbors that you won’t get complaints about the noise.”

“Mm.”

“You could store lumber here. Base of operations, so to speak.”

Hoyt looks around the interior of the barn. He looks at the faucets, the concrete floor with its helpful drain, the high crossbeams, the chains. This is so much more suitable than the disposable locations he’s currently using. The extraordinary potential of the space uncoils behind his eyes. The possibilities make him break out in a wide, sincere smile.

“It’s perfect,” he pronounces. “Just perfect.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The sky is glowering over Quantico early Friday morning and—still buoyed by the success with Cooper—Emma runs in the rain. On the way back she’s flagged by Betty, who delivers Simon’s questionnaire. Emma holds the folder by the corners as she returns to her room. She showers and dresses, then heads down, carrying her paperwork and two cafeteria mugs in the elevator all the way to basement level.