The other two detectives pushed their way into the room. Their barely contained hostility took up all the extra space. Ted led Duran and partner out of the ER.

The waiting room was near empty. An exhausted-looking older man cradled a sleeping woman in his arms in the far corner. Two young men, faces etched with deep worry lines, stared down at the grey carpet. A few hard couches lined the walls, and uncomfortable-looking chrome and thin-cushioned chairs faced them, creating not truly intimate spaces. Flat-screen televisions hung in every corner, delivering nonstop local news, with traffic and weather currently being displayed on green maps of Long Island. It was raining. Traffic was light.

“Do I need to call a lawyer?” Ted asked, throwing himself into one of the grey chairs, forcing the two detectives to take the even less inviting couch in front of him.

“Why would you need a lawyer?” Kasabian asked.

Ted sat forward, leaning in as though imparting some secret information. “Because it’s coming up on midnight after a pretty shitty day, and I’ve just left a friend in the ER, and some dickhead cop thinks this is a good time for me to answer his trick questions.”

“Easy.” Duran gestured for his partner to stay seated. Kasabian complied, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Those guys”—Duran waved, indicating the other two detectives—“see you as a possible perp. They ran you through the system, and I got a message. I believe you’re only a witness, but if you fuck with me or my partner . . . No, if you so much as make another wiseass remark, I will toss you to my colleagues and good fucking riddance. Any questions?”

Ted knew he needed help. He and Kenzie were thrashing around and getting thrashed in return. They had no evidence of anything. But he had to keep Kenzie safe. Could he trust them? Or had they already been compromised like the two in the squad car from earlier in the day? Something in their approach, however, reassured him. They didn’t trust him and didn’t try to hide it. So while they were not on his side, they weren’t trying to game him. Now, could he trade his patched-together tale in exchange for Kenzie’s security? Would they believe him? And if they did, would they honor an agreement? He had no choice but to try.

“Can you get my friend someone to guarantee her safety?” Ted asked. “Twenty-four-hour protection while she’s here?”

“Not without hearing a very good story,” Duran said. “Maybe she was collateral damage in a car heist that went wrong.”

“Those guys were after her,” Ted said. “It was a hit. Not an accident.”

Duran smiled. “I’m still listening.”