“Just to live our own lives. You’d think that could be done easily enough with an ocean separating our two continents.”

This was going worse than he’d even imagined. “Like I mentioned, I had no choice coming here. I’m just going to see this through and then go on my way the first of the year.”

This seemed to take Rachel by surprise.

“What? You’re actually retiring?”

Grant nodded. “I announced it a couple of months ago. I would have told you if we’d talked but . . .”

“But we don’t. I know that.”

Their server thankfully picked that moment to return with tea and coffee. The hot liquids slightly thawed their icy standstill, at least long enough to order. Rachel asked for a mushroom and bacon omelet. When told they didn’t do porridge or kippers, Grant settled for a couple of eggs over easy and a side of ham.

“Can’t change those British spots so easily,” Rachel mused.

“I’m not planning on staying over here that long.”

“Guess that’d depend on what the person you’re looking for decides to do.”

Unfortunately, Grant couldn’t disagree.

He ended up discussing the case with her over breakfast. Not only was it neutral ground to avoid anything personal, it helped to lay it all out. Rachel offered up an occasional observation and a few questions, a by-product of her chosen profession, falling into the old rhythm from her teenage years when Grant would bring his work home from the Yard and discuss it with both her and Allison.

“And what are you holding out on with Ferguson?”

Rachel had spent enough time around her father to know when he was playing something close to the vest.

Grant considered. Then he made a big decision.

He told Rachel about the Ten Commandments.

He wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe he wanted her to get the story out before that bothersome Ferguson. It was also possible that Grant didn’t care about playing by the rules any longer. The killer certainly wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine the Yard suspending him with just a few weeks left before retirement.

Rachel’s startled expression made it clear that Everett hadn’t betrayed the Commandment connection. Grant was grateful for that small miracle.

When they got to the Fifth, Rachel shook her head. “He could be going after anyone. Everyone’s got a mother and father.”

Grant went on to tell her a little about John Frankel. He was surprised to hear himself use a superlative or two. Until he spoke them aloud, he hadn’t realized how impressed with the NYPD detective he was.

“I met him a few months back at a crime scene,” Rachel said. “Seemed very serious and dedicated to his work.” She took a purposeful sip of coffee and gave her father a look that could only be interpreted one way.

“Sounds familiar,” Grant admitted.