As Lou headed into the smallish bathroom, he saw Vaill smoothly check his gun and stuff it into the rear waistband of his jeans, concealing it underneath his T-shirt.

“What do you want, Chuck?” Vaill called out without rancor. “It isn’t a great time to talk.”

“What are you doing in there?” McCall implored. “Come on, Tim. Let me in!”

Lou closed the bathroom door behind him and threw his still drying clothes into the tub. Then he climbed in himself, forcing the damp clothes beneath his knees, clutching the laptop, and pulling the plastic curtain closed. The tight fit reminded him why he never chose a tub over a shower unless it was a good-sized Jacuzzi.

Willing himself to control his breathing, he listened, using his imagination and ears to create details he could not see. It was clear Vaill was going to allow his partner in. Lou imagined him crossing the room, then checking through the security peephole. Next came a click and a faint creak of unoiled door hinges opening then closing. Chuck McCall, in Vaill’s mind the chief possibility to be an agency mole working with Burke, was in the room.

“Are you doing drugs?” McCall asked.

“What are you doing here, Chuck? How’d you find me?”

“When I couldn’t get a hold of you, I checked to see if anybody was using your credit card or one of our fake ones, and saw activity on the Gregg Campbell Visa. Wasn’t hard to track you down from there.”

“Next time I’ll be more careful.”

Lou decided to mute Vaill’s laptop in case an e-mail or other warning tone sounded. Gingerly, he lifted the cover and killed the volume. Burke’s face stared out at him.

Where are you? Lou asked the face. Where have you taken the notebook? Did you kill Humphrey? Torture him?

“What in the hell is going on with you?” he heard McCall ask. “Where’s Welcome?”

“I let him go. I called Beth and told her.”

“You did what?”

“I let him go. We were off base on him. He’s not involved in any way we don’t already know about.”

Lou had no trouble picturing McCall’s disbelief.

“You can’t just do that,” he said.

“Why not? I work for the FBI. We make those decisions all the time.”

“But I’m your partner! You’re supposed to make them with me.”

“Speaking of that, I’m thinking of putting in for a few weeks off. Medical leave. My headaches are getting worse.”

“Yeah, well I’m thinking about putting out an APB for Lou Welcome. I can’t believe you let him go.”