“The Corcillium, Roxy. This is exactly why I can’t tell you anything.”

“Sorry. Old habits. Could they know something? Or would you even tell me?”

“I can’t reach them. I’ve tried. Where is my purse? My keys are in there.”

“You probably left it upstairs. So you do still speak with them, then? I’m just trying to come up with anything that could help. Remember that I know nothing.”

“You know that I trust you implicitly. But what’s happening with William right now is exactly why I can’t drag you in even further. You have to stay here.”

“You can’t tell by my face, but I’m laughing inside. So I sit in front of the TV and call you every five minutes? He may not be my blood kin, but I feel like he’s my own grandson. Chris’s parents are dead. I’m the other de facto grandmother he never asked for.”

“I think I left my purse in the pantry.”

“I was just in there looking for the Oreos, it’s not in there. I’m telling you it’s in your bedroom. I don’t want to stress you out any more, but I guess we’ve crossed that threshold. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Kate? Surely her connections in Washington could get you some answers.”

As they clambered up the stairs to the bedroom, Lynn’s chest tightened. It hurt every single time when she thought of her oldest daughter. Her strong, stubborn, brilliant girl. The last she’d spoken with Kate was Tom’s funeral, and even at that, she’d come to the mass at the cathedral, sat with the family but did not speak, and left with just a kiss on Lynn’s cheek, saying, “I’ll always love you, Mama.” Then, she was gone. She was so much like Tom that with his passing, it felt like two of the great loves of her life were dead to her.

“I’ve tried to call her. She doesn’t pick up.”

“Stella?”

“She’s trying her law enforcement sources. But no one, even in the FBI, seems to have any answers.”

“Well, not to make this day even more of a mess, but I think the reporters have found you,” Roxy said, stopping at the window on the stairs. “Did you take down that no trespassing sign?”

“No,” Lynn said, squinting. “I didn’t.”

“Then call the cops—”

“That’s a town car. Now there are two.”

“Could it be Kate…?”

A third dark town car pulled up. Then, all the doors opened at the exact same moment, and men in black suits began to step out.

“Oh crap.”

“Go upstairs and lock the door,” Lynn ordered.

“Hell if I’m hiding up there.”

“Forget the bedroom. Where do you park the truck—?”