“Time for the Portland taxpayers to buy me a beer!” Leetch threw an arm around Cohen’s shoulder and led him to the lobby bar. “I’m thinking they’d want me to have something exotic and pricey, too. One of them Dutch beers.”

As soon as they seated at a table in the bar, Cohen asked, “How was Sophie’s birthday party?”

“Expensive. Excessive. Exhausting. Nothing you wouldn’t expect.” His lips parted in a proud smile. “She had a blast. Loved the pony rides. I got some pictures in my bag. You were missed—not by me, mind you, but by the ladies of the house.”

Cohen smiled. “Did she like my present?”

Leetch nodded. “Beautiful dollhouse. Hope you don’t mind if I take the month of June off to assemble the damn thing!”

“I’ll help,” Cohen said. “How’s my dad?”

“Fine. I saw him the day before. Frankly, I don’t think he misses you.”

Cohen laughed. “No doubt.”

Leetch clicked his tongue. “So that was the Dr. Lopez, huh?”

“She’s okay,” Cohen said evasively.

“More than okay, she’s got real chutzpah, as you people would say.” Leetch winked. “Something’s up with you two, huh?”

“We barely know each other.”

“Yeah, sure, Seth.” Leetch briefly eyed him with a disbelieving smile, but it soon faded. “KC, I haven’t picked up a whiff on Forbes since the Airport Intercon. I think you might be right. He might have moved on.”

“To a new identity, maybe,” Cohen said, “though I’m pretty sure he’s still in Philadelphia. Or at least he was last night.”

“Oh?” Leetch took a long sip from his beer bottle. “What makes you so sure?”

Cohen filled Leetch in on the details of Ryland’s car crash. Leetch didn’t look surprised. “Yeah, I could easily see Forbes behind the wheel of that SUV. But Ryland survived, huh? See? Forbes is good, but he’s far from perfect.”

“He’s made a few mistakes,” Cohen said. “All the same, I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

“Maybe the pressure is getting to him. He left a trail in Portland and Philly, and now he lets his latest target get away.” Leetch’s bottle stopped halfway to his mouth. “Ryland might still be in danger, huh?”

“Maybe,” Cohen said. “But the police have round-the-clock guards posted.”

Thirty minutes later, Kilburn joined them in the bar. Lopez, stunning Cohen in a black summer dress, joined them five minutes after. They decided to move into the restaurant where, with Leetch leading by example, they ordered up a feast. They shared two bottles of wine and numerous laughs, primarily at Cohen’s expense, as Leetch regaled the other two with stories of his partner’s escapades.

Just before 11 P.M., they were exchanging good-nights by the elevators when Cohen’s phone rang. “Seth, it’s Ed,” Lieutenant Franklin said in a subdued voice.

Cohen braced himself for news. “What’s up?”