“Bueno…” is all I get.

“Sure, so I’d like to bring it to you after work tonight. Will you be at home?”

“Sí.”

“And will tu madre be there, too?”

“Sí.”

“Okay, good. I will try to be there by seven. Is that okay?”

“Sí.”

“Good. Bueno. I’ll see you then,” and hang up.

Takes me just fifteen minutes to pack my stuff. I spend another minute catching my breath. Five years, five more good years here, and boom, it’s done. It’s hard to be excited when my entire universe has caved in on me. I’ve got one chance to make it right, and that’s the new job at Kaplan-Thaler.

Thank God for minor miracles, I think, and head for the elevator.

But no quick escape—because Detectives Quinn and Garrison are there waiting for me. How the hell’d they get back here so fast?

“Pete?”

“Let’s make it Detective Quinn, MacGhee. And I’m afraid we’ve got some more questions for you.”

“Well, sure. What else can I tell you? Let’s go back to my cubicle where we can talk.”

“No, not quite. We’re going to need to take you down to the station, where we can be sure our conversation is completely private.”

“Seriously? Well…of course, if that’s what it takes. As you can see I’m in the process of leaving the agency.”

“Yes, like you told us. And we want to make this as easy as possible, and attract as little attention as possible. So first, we’re going to ask you to drop off your things back in your cubicle. And then we’ll escort you downstairs to our car.”

“And I’ll take that bag,” this from Detective Garrison. I hand it to him. Nothing in it except my laptop.

Jesus—is this their way of showing me how valuable I am to their investigation?

By the time we head back to the elevators the entire fifth floor is watching us, with a range of expressions—curiosity, surprise, some smirks. Mary Claire, Julie Reich. All of them. Clay stands up and I get the raised fist and arm slap of indignation—the old Iberian finger, which Ramon would appreciate.

Downstairs we pass Mo on the way out. I can’t bear to look at her, but I can see she’s clapped her right hand over her mouth in genuine concern.

“It’s okay, Mo. We’re just going to find a more private place to talk.”

Out on the street, Garrison locks my bag in the trunk, opens the front door, gets into the driver’s seat of their unmarked car and cranks up the engine. Quinn opens the back door so I can climb into the backseat. It’s caged, with no way to open the doors from the inside.

What the hell is going on?

Chapter 36

Off we go.

“I’m a little confused at why all this security stuff is necessary,” I ask.

“Not to worry, MacGhee. Just official procedure. We want to get you away from the office so we can get down to business.”