“It happens. Unfortunately, a lot of it goes unreported.”

“What kind of stuff are you talking about?”

I shrug. “Some people don’t like the buggies because they’re slow and hold up traffic. Or they think the Amish are stupid. They equate pacifism with cowardice.” I shake my head. “I’ve seen buggies run off the road. People have thrown rocks at the horses to spook them. I’ve even heard of some teenagers throwing fireworks at the horses. A few don’t like the religion.”

“Or they just hate for the sake of hating.”

He’s staring at me again. That shouldn’t bother me. I’ve been in this man’s bed. He’s held me. Kissed me. Made love to me. Yet here I am, uncomfortable and squirming beneath his gaze. Turning slightly in my chair, I look out the window, not sure what to say next or how to feel.

“How have you been, Kate?”

“Fine. Working a lot.” My answer is a little too quick. I’m nervous about his being here, and he knows it. I turn back to him. It’s been two months since I last saw him, but it seems like a lifetime. “How about you?”

“Saving the world.” He smiles. “Living the good life.”

I nod, not believing a word of it. “How long can you stay?”

“Till we close the case.”

I want to ask him if he’s up to the task, but I know the question will only piss him off. I admire and respect Tomasetti. Too damn much if I want to be honest about it. But he’s been through hell in the last two and a half years. He’s a troubled man with shadows so deep I haven’t been able to penetrate them. He might say otherwise, but I’m not convinced he’s up to working this case.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say after a moment.

“I bet you tell all the agency guys that.”

I smile.

A rapid knock sounds, then the door swings open. Glock steps in. His eyes widen when he sees Tomasetti. His gaze darts to mine. “Sorry, Chief, I didn’t know you had a visitor.”

“It’s okay,” I say, relieved for the interruption. “What do you have?”

Nodding at Tomasetti, he approaches, passes a sheet of paper to me. “Get a load of this.”