Mateo smiled. “It’s a good thing I wore my fancy boots,” he said, zipping up his jacket. “Looks like we’re going to the Upper East Side.”

Meanwhile, back in Connecticut…

THEY’D BEEN DRIVING IN SILENCE for twenty minutes before the guy slowed the car down. Teri was sitting shotgun, Parker on her lap, Chris and Daryl in the backseat. When the man told them to get into the car, Chris pointed out that the rental didn’t have any of the car seats they’d need, but the man with the gun hadn’t seemed to care about that. He’d pointed with the gun once more, and she’d stopped telling him about children’s vehicular safety.

Teri held on to Parker tight as they drove. She stared out the window, wishing that someone would tell her what to do, feeling very strongly that twenty bucks an hour was not enough to make up for having to deal with this.

The man pulled the car off to the shoulder of I-95 and killed the engine. Teri’s heart pounded. What did this mean? “Look,” she said, already edging toward the door handle, glancing to the backseat. “We’ll just get out here, how ’bout that? And call an Uber, and we won’t mention this to anyone. Right?”

“Never,” Chris agreed.

“Mention what?” Daryl asked.

Parker shook her head emphatically.

“Oh no,” the guy said. His eyes went wide as he looked around the car, illuminated by the flickering roadside light above them. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to scare you kids. I just had to get you out of there for your own safety. I wasn’t sure if I was being followed. If I was, it would have been dangerous to leave you there. Let’s start over. I’m Damon Gilroy, but call me Gilroy. CIA.”

“CIA?” Chris echoed from the backseat, impressed.

“If you’re CIA, what were you doing in a trunk?” Daryl asked.

Parker raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I can’t tell you everything.” Gilroy lowered his voice. Everyone in the car leaned closer. “But I’ve been deep undercover for the last year with the Bulgarian mob. Today—somehow—I was burned.”

Teri winced. “Where?”

Daryl scoffed. “It’s what it’s called when a spy’s cover is blown.”

“Impressive.” Gilroy gave a ghost of a smile, then his troubled expression returned. “I don’t know how they found out. But they drove me away, and I knew I was about to get…” He hesitated.

“Whacked?” Chris supplied.