“Aunt C! Aunt C!” a girl yelled, barreling up to the table at top speed. A pack of children followed behind but stopped at the top of the stairs as if a force field blocked their path. The girl stopped at her aunt’s side, out of breath, white dress dotted with grass. Her black hair was braided down the middle, and she had pretty blue eyes. She saw Gibson and immediately became shy, pressing herself close to her aunt and whispering in her ear. Calista laughed and hugged the girl.

“Yes, of course. But no more than twenty. Let Davis know so that he can make arrangements with their parents.”

The girl grinned and said thank you. She started to run back to the party, but Calista caught her by the sleeve.

“Can you say hello to our guest? This is Mr. Vaughn. This is Catherine, my niece.”

“Hello.” She waved.

“Hello,” Gibson said.

“Properly, young lady.”

She nodded at her mistake, gathered herself, and approached Gibson with her hand out. He shook it.

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Vaughn. I’m Catherine Dauplaise. Thank you for attending my birthday party.”

She looked at her aunt out of the corner of her eye to see if she’d gotten it right. Calista sighed and waved her away.

“Go on, go play. And remember, no more than twenty.”

“Yes, Aunt C!” Catherine yelled excitedly as she ran down the steps to the lawn.

“A work in progress,” Calista said. “I’m afraid motherhood is not in my makeup. As my lackadaisical son will attest. But I do my best.”

“If it’s any consolation, she’s better behaved than mine.”

He could tell from her face that it wasn’t.

“It was nice to see you again, Mr. Vaughn. Good luck in Pennsylvania.”

PART TWO

PART TWO

SOMERSET

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The expedition to Somerset left the next day. The parking garage beneath Abe Consulting was nearly empty, and Gibson’s footsteps echoed off the concrete walls. Hendricks, smoking a cigarette, leaned against a banged-up late-model Grand Cherokee, its wheel wells mottled with rust, the side panels badly dented. It looked like someone had resculpted the rear bumper using a concrete embankment as a chisel.

“Sweet ride. Range Rover in the shop?” Gibson said.

“Ninety-thousand-dollar SUVs don’t exactly blend in central Pennsylvania, Vaughn. We’re trying to keep a low profile.”

Gibson put up both hands. “Just a joke, man.”

“Just worry about the computers, all right?” Hendricks flicked ash toward two large black duffel bags. “That’s the equipment you spec’d out. Stow it in the back.”

Hendricks got into the Cherokee and started the engine. Gibson unzipped the bags and took an inventory before putting them in the trunk alongside a stack of identical black bags. Hendricks was hauling along an awful lot of equipment. What was all this stuff?