“No!” the man shouted. “You said I could go if I told you what you wanted to know. I told you.”

“I lied. I need more information. What does Donovan want with us? Who does he report to?”

“I don’t know who he reports to. I told you, it’s a chain of command. He just said I was to listen to all of you and take notes. That’s all I did.”

“Does Donovan have an office?”

“If he does, I don’t know where it is. We do all our business on the phone or through email. I’m telling you the truth.”

Hearing a commotion behind her, Sam turned to see Slick with a man who was tattooed from his neck to his fingers. He was also the sorriest-looking individual she’d ever seen. She knew she would have to disinfect the deck after he left. She heard Olivia tell the man to set up shop. Sam looked at Mateo and shrugged.

“Where’s this place we’re going in ten days?”

“I-don’t-know!”

“Do you have a Blackberry?”

The man wilted. Sam reached over and checked all his jacket pockets. There it was. “You have a message. Actually, you have two messages. Tell me how this works. But before you tell me that, what do you do if you need to meet with Donovan?”

“I tell him I need to meet him, and we arrange a meeting, usually someplace public.”

“You’re lying. I can smell a lie a mile away.” Sam turned to Olivia, her eyes questioning.

“He’s ready to go as soon as we pick out a picture. I like this one,” she said, holding up a nude picture of a woman with monster breasts. “Barry said this one is his most popular and most expensive. Five hundred big ones.”

“Sold,” Sam said smartly. “Our guest needs another glass of water.”

“I know how to work that thing,” Kayla said, pointing to the Blackberry. “In my line of business it was a necessity. What do you want to know?”

“I want to read the messages, and I’d like to know if he saves them. See if you can find a message that indicates a meeting, either coming in or going out. Wait, what do the two new messages say?”

“The messages are identical. It just says, Update on each one,” Kayla said.

“Okay. Send a reply. Too busy. Need to meet. Any luck on retrieving old messages?”

“Not yet. Oh, wait, here’s one. Donovan initiated it. No location. It just says, Same place.”

“Where’s the place, Mateo?” Sam barked.

“Crystal City underground. The pretzel stand,” the bound man responded immediately, his eyes on the tattoo artist.

“Drink the water, Mr. Mateo.”

“Oh, God, I can’t. Please let me go to the bathroom. I was just doing my damn job. This is torture.”