“Yes,” I said. “When will he be freed?”

He snapped his fingers. “Like that.”

“Good,” I said as I blew my nose. “I’m going to be watching for him to be freed like that.” I snapped my fingers, too. “And if he isn’t? Guess what? I’m also a lawyer and in a really, really shitty mood. And I’ll come after you. Okay?”

He smiled at me and swallowed.

“What kind of lawyer?” he asked.

“The kind you don’t want to know,” I said as I went out the door.

I got to the office maybe fifteen minutes later, and my pager vibrated and the phone rang as I sat behind my desk. Before I could do anything, Rose suddenly appeared and looked unusually stressed.

“Everybody’s looking for you,” she said.

“They always are.” I frowned at the number on my pager’s display. “Now who the hell is that?”

“Marino’s on his way here,” she went on. “They’re sending a helicopter. To the helipad at MCV. USAMRIID’s in the air right now, heading here. They’ve let the Baltimore Medical Examiner’s office know a special team’s going to have to handle this, that the body will have to be autopsied in Frederick.”

I gave her my eyes as my blood seemed to freeze. “Body?”

“Apparently there’s some campground where the FBI traced a call.”

“I know about that.” I had no patience. “In Maryland.”

“They think they’ve found the killer’s camper. I’m not clear on all the details. But it has what might be a lab of some type. And there’s a body inside.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Whose body?”

“They think, his. A possible suicide. Shot.” She peered at me over the top of her glasses, and shook her head. “You should be home in bed with a cup of my chicken soup.”

Marino picked me up in front of my office as wind gusted through downtown and whipped state flags on tops of buildings. I knew instantly that he was angry when he pulled out before I’d barely shut the door. Then he had nothing to say.

“Thanks,” I said, unwrapping a cough drop.

“You’re still sick.” He turned onto Franklin Street.

“I certainly am. Thank you for asking.”

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he said, and he was not in uniform. “Last thing I want to do is get near some goddamn lab where someone’s been making viruses.”

“You’ll have special protection,” I replied.

“I should probably have it now, being around you.”

“I have the flu and am no longer infectious. Trust me. I know these things. And don’t be mad at me, because I have no intention of putting up with it.”

“You’d better hope the flu’s what you got.”

“If I had something worse, I would be getting worse and my fever would be higher. I would have a rash.”

“Yeah, but if you’re already sick, don’t that mean you’re more likely to catch something else? Like, I don’t know why you want to be making this trip. ’Cause I sure the fuck don’t. And I don’t appreciate being dragged into it.”