After more than an hour, Lopez received a phone call and ushered Gavin down a hallway of cinder block and thick glass. A heavy door slammed somewhere in the distance, and the sound rattled Gavin’s nerves a bit. His heart thumped in his chest, and for a split second, Gavin felt that most poisonous of all emotions—doubt.

A memory flashed in his mind, a video he had seen of some idiot in the Everglades sticking his head inside the mouth of an alligator, part of a roadside attraction. The man had done it a thousand times and never once did the alligator bite him—until it did. In a way, Gavin was about to put his head into that proverbial alligator’s mouth. He could not let his guard down. Stay focused. Don’t mess this up. Everything depends on getting it right.

He returned to the only thought that mattered. He had to be someone other than Kevin the Picture Boy. Sadie had to see no hint of the man who’d sat in her salon chair. He had to be perfect in his performance or the alligator’s jaws might just snap shut.

He and Detective Lopez turned a corner and came upon five men dressed in civilian clothing, all about his age, height, and build—the decoys. Three of them looked reasonably similar to what Gavin had looked like before he shaved his head. The other two were bald. The detective placed Gavin second from the front of the line and gave them their instructions.

“Walk to the numbers on the floor and face the mirror. You’re number six.” Lopez pointed at the man in front of Gavin and counted them down, making Gavin number five. “Then just do what they ask.”

A jailer opened the door for the men, and they filed in.

The room was smaller than what he had expected, gray walls with a panel of one-way glass. Gavin walked to where a number five was painted on the floor and turned to face the glass, keeping his expression blank.

Through the speakers, a man’s voice asked for number one to step forward. The man did. There was a pause of about ten seconds and the man was told to return to his spot.

Then number two was told the same thing. This man looked like Gavin did before the shave, the same lumpy build and light-brown hair, not a doppelgänger, but satisfyingly close. He remained forward for a good thirty seconds before being asked to step back.

Number three looked nothing like Gavin and spent barely five seconds out of line before being asked to return.

She’s not sure, Gavin thought. She must be the one determining how long each man stayed out front. She needed time to look at number two, which Gavin took to be a good sign. When his turn came, he could gage her level of recognition by how long they kept him forward.

Number four stepped forward. He stayed out front for even longer than number two had.