“I haven’t been sworn to secrecy since middle school. Okay. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She flashed him a challenging smile.

“A powerful oath,” Ted said. “My client is a woman. An old woman named Barbara Miller. She owns some buildings in various neighborhoods in Queens. She used to own three more that sat on property that LBC needs to build that tower.”

“I should know about her. We talked to two dozen landlords. How did we miss her?”

“You came along too late.” Kenzie had a tiny mole on her neck—a beauty mark. He wanted to kiss it. “They got to her first. She is now in an assisted-living residence in Seaside.”

“Is she competent?” she asked.

“I talked to her. She’s easily frightened, but you get her on a sunny day, and she’ll be fine. And tough as an old shoe.”

“You like her.”

“I do.” She wanted to know if the coyote had a heart. It may have been beaten and battered, but it was functional.

“So this one is personal,” she said.

“I suppose it is. But I’ve been threatened if I continue and also if I drop it. I’ve been pushed around before. I don’t like it.”

“Okay. So what’s next?”

“Dinner?” he said, hoping that his willingness to share had earned him a second meeting, possibly a date.

Though she smiled encouragingly, her words stopped him. “Don’t rush me. I don’t respond well.”

He had a line of retreat prepared. “I meant dinner at a has-been steak house out past the city line. Where I can go and watch these crooks in action.”

A hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes. A romantic dinner might still be in their future. “Tuesday night. They’re at the same table every week.”

“Tuesday. I’ll have to wait until then,” Ted said.

She cocked her head to one side as though a thought had only then occurred to her.

“Yes?” he asked.

“How about breakfast tomorrow? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

-27-

-27-

“Ted?”

The body responded to the ringing of the phone. His hand reached out and grabbed the device; his thumb did the rest. All this was done with muscle memory. His brain was not yet engaged. “Uh-huh.”

“What are you doing?”

Sleeping? Past tense. “Jill?” His voice croaked. Allergies? No, beer.

“Hi.”

Ted checked the time. “Jesus. It’s four-something. Are you okay?”

“I’m watching Laura,” she said.

He tried to focus. Who the hell was Laura? “But you’re not hurt? You’re safe?”

“I’m fine, silly. I’m watching a movie. Well, I’m not fine, but I am safe. Okay?”