“Don’t do that, Chuck. As your partner, I’m asking you to back away from this. Miller and Welcome aren’t terrorists. A doctor and a scientist. That’s all they are. They’re victims of One Hundred Neighbors, not their allies. I think the murder in Miller’s apartment is proof enough of that.”

A long pause ensued. Lou’s eyes traveled back to Burke’s frozen image. Without sound or movement, he could better focus on other details—the dusky blue of the sky cut off by the gray of the sea, the angle of the sun on Burke’s face and straw-colored hair, and the carpet of grass running from the killer to the cliff’s edge.

But for the first time in more than a hundred viewings, something else in the frame caught Lou’s eye. Like the audience of a magician using misdirection to perform a trick, Lou realized he had missed seeing the object because he’d been so focused on other details—the timbre of Burke’s speech, his words, his eye blinks. But this new discovery, frozen in the field just beneath the horizon, might be real, provided it was not just a figment of the filming or something the endless plays had done to the disc.

“Look, Tim,” McCall was saying, “I know I can never replace Maria, but that doesn’t mean I can’t care about you as a partner and a friend.”

“Good to know. If you care, you’ll head out.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“What about the job?”

“I’m going to take some time off. I’ve already given Snyder the heads-up. I need to rest.”

McCall went silent.

“It’s that bad?”

“I’m taking a leave, aren’t I?”

“Promise me you’ll check in with your doctor.”

“If you promise me you’ll back off Welcome.”

Lou’s lower back was starting to ache. He wanted desperately to shift positions, but worried that even the slightest movement might cause a sound. Instead, he focused on the image to distract himself. As before, the object was there, nearly lost in the whitecaps and the horizon and the scattered clouds.

Maybe, just maybe …

“I need you to go, Chuck,” Vaill said. “Please. I need my time and space to heal. Can you do that for me?”

The younger agent exhaled loudly.

Lou pictured his discouragement, but now his own pulse was beginning to quicken. McCall was just seconds from leaving.

“Mind if I use your bathroom before I go?” he said suddenly.

Lou’s breath caught and he braced himself against the sides of the tub. There was nothing he could think of to do except to remain motionless and keep his breathing slow and soundless.

“Sure,” Vaill replied. “But then I need you to go.”