Hailey didn’t know if the police presence had anything to do with her and Nick—but then again, they’d been involved in two separate incidences at famous Boston tourist spots, and the State House certainly qualified as a third. It was a little after four in the morning, so the police weren’t there to tend to tour groups or State House office personnel. There was a good chance they were patrolling out of an excess of caution, spurred by a fire alarm at the Bunker Hill Monument and a cannon firing on the USS Constitution.

The only other possibility had to do with the scaffolding Hailey had seen along Bowdoin Street—which ran perpendicular to the State House—when she and Nick had first arrived, before he’d gone off to case the building, something he’d described as “force of habit,” which Hailey hadn’t felt the need to question. Adrian hadn’t had to explain the scaffolding; Hailey had walked past the State House enough times living in Boston to know that the aging building was in an almost constant state of refurbishing and repair. The gold leaf on the dome had been replaced multiple times, the bricks painted, repainted, and restored. Even the building’s many columns, which had once been carved out of wood, had been replaced by replicas in iron. There was always some sort of scaffolding near different portions of the building, and that usually meant more cops, more cameras, more complications.

Whatever the reason, the police presence was going to be hard to get past; and every minute that went by, the sky lightening through different shades of gray, their goal became more and more remote.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Hailey said.

“Yes—you’re going to need a hell of a plan,” Adrian responded, sinking deeper into the fence. “I’m going to get back on my bike and find my way back to my whiskey. Even heroes have their limits.”

He was interrupted by a shape jogging toward them down the sidewalk. Hailey could tell that it was Nick even before his face, beneath his hat, was visible; the way he held his hurt shoulder, his arm stiff against his side, made her wince in empathy.

But if Nick was bothered by the injury, he didn’t let it show. In fact, his expression was almost beaming.

“The police,” Hailey started, as he got close enough to hear, but he was already ahead of her.

“Going in from the front is out of the question. They’ll have us in handcuffs before we get five feet from the bell. But I’ve been around the perimeter twice, and I think there might be another way.”

He glanced at Adrian, who was looking at him with only a modicum of disdain, but a fair amount of disbelief. Then Nick turned back toward Hailey.

“But I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like it.”