As always, when Maggie arrived home and exited her chauffeur-driven car—a perk of her job at the Post—she looked up and down the street. She saw Jack’s car parked two doors down and a green car of some sort that belonged to his two-day-a-week housekeeper. She couldn’t help but notice a white plumbing van parked directly in front of her house. Her driver walked her to the door and waited until she was inside.

“Guess you left your lights on this morning, Miss Spritzer.”

“I finally got around to setting the timers over the weekend. Thanks for bringing me home, Will. See you in the morning.”

The driver wagged his finger but waited till she was inside and the door closed. The moment he heard the lock snick into place he turned on his heel and walked to the Lincoln Town Car.

Inside, Maggie stood stock-still as she waited to see which of the Sisters was in her house. Kathryn emerged from the kitchen, a chicken leg in hand. Kathryn’s appetite was as notorious as Maggie’s.

“I didn’t know I had any chicken in the fridge,” Maggie said inanely.

“You didn’t. I stopped at a deli and bought two bags of food. I was starving. I didn’t know you worked this late, Maggie. It’s almost midnight.”

“I try not to, but with the profiles pouring in, I have to stay on top of it. Ted and Espinosa are working overtime. I want to start our new series midweek if possible.

“We’re going to run with something else, too. It’s a long story, but, fast-forward, I remembered something that has been niggling at me. There was this kid who called in to the paper right before the switchboard blew out. It was right after we started running the series. I hate to admit this, but I sloughed him off at the time. You know what they say, everything happens for a reason, so maybe even if I had paid attention, I wouldn’t have attached any importance to what he said. I just don’t know. What I do know is we are definitely onto something now.