“You do know that the German police interviewed me about you. They thought you were a terrorist.”

“Yes, I saw on the news,” said Jean. “Apparently a case of mistaken identity.”

“Of course it was,” said Peter with a wry smile. “And did you manage to find out anything else about that woman who sent you the book?”

“Didn’t have the time,” said Jean.

A few months later when Peter showed her an article about the conviction of Ingrid Weiss, Jean responded, “Well, what do you know about that.”

Patton discovered, on returning to Alta Vista, that she had inherited Jasper Fleming’s house on Lone Pine Road. Nemo said it would do very nicely for him, thank you very much. When Patton asked if it was safe for a retired assassin to live someplace other than Argentina, Nemo explained that he checked after every job to be sure no investigation remained open.

“I was good at what I did,” said Nemo. “They always ruled it accidental death, or natural causes, or suicide.”

“So I just have to live next door to a killer?” said Patton.

“A retired killer,” said Nemo.

“I feel so much better.”

Patton and Nemo talked often about their PTSD. Patton had never liked group therapy but talking to Nemo always made her feel better. Nemo often disappeared for days at a time. The third time this happened, Patton asked where he had gone, and Nemo finally told her the story of how he became an assassin and lost a brother.

“So now I’m looking for Jack,” he said.

Patton offered to help him with the search. “After all, I am an intelligence analyst,” she said.

“It’s nice having a friend,” said Nemo, “but some things I need to do alone.”

On some days, on his dark days, Bob still wanted to kill Patton; and as she told him, on her dark days she wanted him to kill her. But with help from professionals, with good medication, and with a deepening respect for and friendship with one another, those dark days came less often. Bob came to Alta Vista about once a month, sometimes just checking in, sometimes taking Patton away for a few days to introduce her to one of the families who had lost loved ones that day in Kandahar. Both Patton and Bob found those introductions exhausting and tearful and, in a strange way, exhilarating. Only two of the families she met still harbored deep anger toward Patton. She didn’t blame them. She had also seen how forgiveness had brought a measure of peace to the others, so she stayed in touch and available even to those who still hated her, hoping that the connection might do them all some good.