For bathrooms, they were elegant, speaking of a more gracious time, with the ivy-covered stone and cedar shingles. The metal shutters and doors lent themselves to the permanence of the structure as much as the fading perennials smothering it. Sure enough, I found Glenn inside the men’s room, his back to me as he stood on the toilet with a pair of binoculars, watching Trent through the broken window. The bridge was within his view, and I felt better knowing he would be watching me.

“Glenn,” I said, and he spun, almost slipping off the toilet.

“God bless it!” he swore, giving me a dark look before returning his attention out the window. “What are you doing here?”

“And good morning to you, too,” I said politely, wanting to smack him a good one and ask why he hadn’t stuck up for me yesterday and kept me working. The room reeked of chlorine and had no partitions at all. The ladies’ bathroom at least had stalls.

His neck tensed, and I gave him credit for not looking from Trent for even a moment. “Rachel,” he warned. “Go home. I don’t know how you found out Mr. Kalamack was here, but if you go near him, I’ll give you to the I.S. myself.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “I made a mistake. I should have stayed put until you said I could enter that crime scene, but Trent asked me to meet him here, so you can go Turn yourself.”

Glenn lowered his binoculars, his face slack as he looked at me.

“Scouts honor,” I said, giving him a sarcastic salute.

His eyes went distant in thought. “This isn’t your run anymore. Get out of here before I have you arrested.”

“You could have at least gotten me in to Trent’s FIB interview yesterday,” I said, taking an aggressive step forward. “Why did you let them shut me out? This was my run!”

His hand rested on the two-way on his hip, right next to his weapon. His brown eyes were angry with a past incident that didn’t include me. “You were ruining the case I was building against him. I told you to stay out, and you didn’t.”

“I said I was sorry. And there wouldn’t even be a case if it wasn’t for me,” I exclaimed. Frustrated, I put my hand on my hip and raised my other in an angry gesture, jerking to a halt as someone came in. It was a frumpy looking man in a frumpy looking coat. He stood in shock for three heartbeats, running his eyes over Glenn in his expensive black suit standing on the can to me in my leather pants and jacket.

“Uh, I’ll come back,” he said, then hastened out.

I turned back to Glenn, having to tilt my head at an awkward angle to look up at him. “I can’t work for the FIB anymore, thanks to you. I’m informing you of my meeting with Trent as a courtesy from one professional to another. So back off and don’t interfere.”