“Then we’ll just have to hope you’re quiet. Now get out.”

As Finch slowly withdrew from the car, the rear door opposite opened and a second man grabbed the bag. He looked up at Finch. The blood drained from his face. “Jesus.”

Finch lunged backward, spinning rapidly and throwing his left elbow at the height where the voice had sounded. The blow caught the man in the throat. Finch kept spinning, yanking the Beretta free and aiming through the open doors. The second man had dropped the bag and replaced it with a Glock.

The two gunshots exploded as one.

Chapter 2

Jesse Cooper stopped in mid-sentence. The bang sounded like a bomb had detonated beneath his window. Gas explosion, he thought.

The young woman on his computer screen jumped. “What was that?”

Without answering, Jesse ran to his window and parted the curtains. At four thirty in the morning, houses were dark, with only streetlights casting an illuminating glow. Jesse saw an SUV parked at the curb, saw a man sprawled by the rear passenger door, and, more ominously, saw two men running away, one carrying a square object under his right arm, the other clutching a gym bag in his right hand while his left arm dangled by his side.

“Something’s happened, Tracy. I’ve got to go.” He hurried from the room, leaving the woman on the screen frantically calling his name. Clad only in a T-shirt and boxer shorts, he bounded down the stairs two at a time. As he reached the bottom, an elderly woman cinching a powder-blue robe stepped into the hall.

“Ethel, stay inside.” Jesse was out the front door before she could reply.

He ran barefoot across the yard to the vehicle. An engine roared to life half a block away. For a few seconds, he heard the squeal of tires and saw a dark SUV accelerate down the street, its headlights off.

The pool of light from a streetlamp just reached the figure lying faceup on the sidewalk. Jesse recognized one of his fellow roomers. Jonathan Finch, a Secret Service agent. Blood stained his chest and flowed onto the pavement. A pistol lay at his feet.

Jesse knelt beside him and heard rapid, raspy breathing. “Jonathan, hang with me. I’ll call for an ambulance.”

But he had no phone and hesitated to leave the man. He turned and saw Ethel hurrying across the yard. He opened his mouth to yell for her to go back inside and phone for help, but she spoke first.

“I’ve called for an ambulance and police. Put pressure on his wound.”

Jesse placed his palms on the spot that seemed to be the center of the injury. Blood flowed between his fingers. The man’s short breaths struggled to become words. Jesse bent closer till his ear nearly touched the man’s lips.

“Tell Ethel… Tell Ethel…the secret…” The last syllable was no more than a faint puff of air.