“So here we are,” he went on with a sigh. “Same old shit. In the good ole days, FBI agents had better sense than that. They weren’t always flashing their shields in front of the camera and taking over investigations they aren’t qualified to handle. I’m embarrassed. I’m more than embarrassed, I’m enraged that these new idiots out there are ruining my reputation along with their own, after I worked twenty-five years . . . Well. I just don’t know what I’m going to do, Kay.”

He met my eyes as he drank.

“Just do your good job, Benton,” I quietly said to him. “Trite as that may sound, it’s all any of us can do. We’re not doing it for the Bureau, not for ATF or the Pennsylvania state police. It’s for the victims and potential victims. Always for them.”

He drained his glass and set it on the desk. The lights of Penn’s Landing were festive outside my window, and Camden, New Jersey, glittered on the other side of the river.

“I don’t think Carrie’s in New York anymore,” he then said as he stared out into the night.

“A comforting thought.”

“And I have no evidence for that beyond there being no sightings or any other indicators that she is in the city. Where is she getting money, for example? Often that’s how the trail begins. Robbery, stolen credit cards. Nothing so far to make us think she’s out there doing things like that. Of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t. But she has a plan, and I feel quite confident that she’s following it.”

His profile was sharp in shadows as he continued staring out at the river. Benton was depressed. He sounded worn out and defeated, and I got up and went to him.

“We should go to bed,” I said, massaging his shoulders. “We’re both tired, and everything seems worse when we’re tired, right?”

He smiled a little and closed his eyes as I worked on his temples and kissed the back of his neck.

“How much do you charge per hour?” he muttered.

“You can’t afford me,” I said.

We did not sleep together because the rooms were small and both of us needed rest. I liked my shower in the morning and he liked his, and that was the difference between being new with each other versus comfortable. There had been a time when we stayed up all night consuming each other, because we worked together and he was married and we could not help our hunger. I missed feeling that alive. Often when we were with each other now, my heart was dull or felt sweet pain, and I saw myself getting old.