“Yeah. Huh. That is interesting. Well, what did you have in mind?”

“Are you still playing games?” Vikki said, making her annoyance clear. “Like I told you, I found a guy who can take care of things. He checks out. But he doesn’t work for free, and neither do I.”

“How do you know he checks out? That he isn’t a cop?”

“He used to be a cop. That’s how I know him. But there were some … unfounded accusations, shall we say, of excessive force. Now he works private security at some clubs, and he does some freelance work.”

“What’s his name?”

Vikki’s laugh was low and unamused. “Listen, Evan. I’ve put some time and effort into this, you know. I do have an actual job, despite what you think about civil servants. I tracked this guy down, told him a little bit about the job, negotiated terms. You’re dicking around, and it’s making me look bad. I’ll tell you what. Forget it. I’m done.”

She tapped END CALL and waited. She tried to go back to her notes, but was too antsy to concentrate. She went to the tiny kitchen and poured herself another mug of coffee. By the time she got back to the table that served as her desk, the phone was ringing again. Another unknown caller.

She was about to hit ACCEPT when the phone alerted her to an incoming text from Joe.

Heard anything?

The agent typed as quickly as she could.

He’s playing hard to get. Two can play at that.

The phone rang a second time.

Now someone was knocking on the door of the efficiency. “Housekeeping!” The door opened and a woman’s head popped in. “Oh, I’m sorry.…” She held out a stack of clean towels.

“Not now!” Vikki yelled.

“Sorry!” The woman left, and the agent got up and slammed the door, securing the security latch this time.

She rushed back to the phone, then tapped ACCEPT. “Hi. What’s it gonna be?”

“Okay, yeah,” Evan said. “Let’s do it.” His voice was clearer now. No traffic noise. He’d gone inside somewhere.

“Do what?” Vikki said a silent prayer that Wingfield would spell out his intentions.

“What we discussed. But I want it done right. She should just … disappear. Like, for real. I don’t want anything showing up that could be traced back to me. Is your guy capable of something like that? Is he smart enough not to get caught?”

“He’s not exactly Snow White. From what I’ve heard, it’s not his first rodeo,” Vikki drawled. “What about the price? He won’t budge, and neither will I.”

“You know what they say about greediness, right?” His tone was ominous. “Pigs get fat. Hogs get slaughtered.”