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“Wilkes,” I managed gasping for breath. “I-”

“I saw.”

“I need to get-”

“He’s gone.”

“But I can find him,” I said, still gasping, my pounding heart not letting me relax enough to catch my breath. “Before he takes someone else, before he escapes.”

I started to rise.

Jack planted his foot on my stomach, then leaned over. “He’s gone. I followed. Lost him. Think I’d be here otherwise?”

“You don’t understand, I need-”

“Too fucking bad, Nadia. This isn’t about what you need.”

The fury in his eyes made the hair on the back of my neck rise and I almost backed down. But then I imagined Wilkes below, running, escaping. Jack was wrong. He didn’t understand, and I wasn’t going to sit here and take this, even from him.

I pretended to relax, as if giving in, then shoved Jack’s foot off. I started scrambling up, then saw something metallic flash in front of my face and looked up to see a gun pointing down.

Had there been anything in my bladder, I think I would have lost it, not because I was staring down the barrel of a gun, but because of who I saw on the other end. Jack. Pointing a gun in my face. For one horrible moment, I thought I’d been tricked, that Jack was involved, that he was working with Wilkes-

“It’s too late, Nadia. Listen.”

“I’ve listened to you enough-”

“No,” he growled. “Not me. Listen.”

The distant sound of voices carried up to the roof, but I couldn’t make out any words. Then the distinct sound of a cop shouting orders.

“You staying?” he said.

I nodded.

He lowered the gun.

I swallowed. Got my thoughts under control. “I’m sorry. About leaving my post. Believe me, Jack, I didn’t try going after him myself and leave you out there unprotected.”

“I know. Evelyn told me.”

“I heard someone on my floor and I had to leave the window, then when I got back, you were gone and Evelyn wanted me to come down-”

“Doesn’t matter. Had to change plans. That’s fine. But this-” He jerked his chin toward the alley. “Leading him in? No backup-?”

“There wasn’t time for that. I got his attention, Jack. I didn’t mean to-I certainly wasn’t trying to. I was looking for you and he saw me, and I-”

“Where’s your gear?”

I told him.

“Stay here.” He headed for the ladder, then paused and looked back at me. “I mean it. You leave? You go after him? Pull this shit again?”

He didn’t finish, gaze dipping from mine, rage retreating.

“I’ll stay,” I said. “I promise.”

He nodded, then disappeared down the ladder.

***

Jack returned with a change of clothing-a full campus-gear outfit of sweatshirt, khakis, ball cap and knapsack. As I dressed, he stuffed my clothes and wig into the knapsack. We wouldn’t keep them, but we had to dispose of them outside the city. I battered my cap in the gravel a bit, so it didn’t look so new. Then I cleaned the rest of the grease-paint off my face and wiped my hands as best I could.

Through it all, Jack said not a word. I could feel his temper smoldering, waiting only for a spark from me to ignite. So I was keeping my mouth shut. It was only when I was cleaning my hands that he acknowledged I was there, walking over and yanking my hand, none too gently, for a closer look.

“Keep them clean,” he said. “Needs a first-aid kit. Might be awhile.”

“That’s okay.” I paused, then decided to risk it. I’d done something wrong-very wrong-and I needed to know what it was. “I don’t think I left any trace. Well, there might be a few drops of blood if they look hard enough…”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re after him. Not you.”

“Is it the witnesses? They didn’t get a good look at me. I kept my face down and-”

“You were in disguise.”

“No one would have made me for a pro, if that’s what you’re worrying about. Not Wilkes and not those college kids. Wilkes just got a victim who fought back. He never saw the gun. The kids did, but not in any way that would seem like anything other than a victim defending-”

“I saw. Looked fine.”

“Then what-?”

“Evelyn got your gear. We’ll head straight to the car. Merge with the crowd. Stay beside me. You see a cop-”

“Act normal,” I said. “Don’t avoid him, keep my gaze up, maybe look curious, wondering what’s going on, but act like everyone else seeing cops swarming around.”

He hefted my knapsack and started across the roof, leaving me to catch up.

FORTY-FIVE

When the Feds learned that Wilkes had tried to take a victim-and left a missing witness-they’d probably erect roadblocks. But if they had, we didn’t see them. We did see cops, fanning out to search the crowds leaving the parade route, but our back-street path kept us-and probably Wilkes-out of their way.

When we reached the car, Evelyn was already there, with my gear in the trunk. As we approached, she got out of the driver’s side. She looked from me to Jack, and waved me to the passenger seat, then reached for the back door. I shook my head and crawled in the back.

Jack got into the driver’s side, leaned over Evelyn and opened the glove box. He pulled out the napkins and hand wipes we’d stashed in there after lunch.

“Clean your hands,” he said, tossing them over the seat at me.

“I’ve already-”

“Clean them again.”

As he started the car, Evelyn twisted and caught sight of my cut hands.

“Christ, what happened to you?”

I glanced at Jack.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” she said. “Just came over to where I was supposed to meet you two, threw me the keys, told me where your gear was and stalked off.”

“I met Wilkes.”

She blinked, then glared at Jack. “Well, that’s not worth telling me about.” She looked at me. “So what happened…and start at the beginning.”

I told her.

“So now he’s missed two scheduled hits,” she said. “Plus he has an eyewitness…a victim who fought back. Probably saw you and decided to skip the demographics and take the easy mark.” She chortled. “Oh, he’ll be mad now. Spitting mad.”

“And off-balance. We need to keep him there. If we act now, we can use it to our advantage and end this.”

Jack’s hands clenched around the steering wheel. “We’ll end it. The old-fashioned way. Legwork. Stop this shit and-”

“That’s not fast, Jack.”

Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. His were ice cold. “And this is? Running after him? Facing him down in alleys? Almost getting killed?

“I had him. If you saw it go down, you know I had him.”

“Where I stood? Looked fifty-fifty.”

“Seventy-five/twenty-five. At least.”

“So that’s okay? Twenty-five percent chance of getting killed? Fuck, yeah. Why not? Goes bad? Who gives a shit? You don’t.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Jack went silent, his gaze turning back to the road.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” I said, taking off my seat belt and moving to the edge of the seat. “If you have something to say, have the guts to say it.”

He said nothing. I clenched the edge of the seat. Goddamn him. Challenge most guys with that, and they’d rise to the bait. Not Jack. Never Jack.

“Pull over,” Evelyn said. “You and Dee need to have a chat.”

He kept driving.

“Jack…”

When he didn’t answer, Evelyn thumped back against the headrest.

“Okay, fine, do it your way. Dee? The next time you get a chance like that, you go ahead and take it. You want this guy taken down more than we do, so any risk you take is your decision, and we support that-”

Jack turned the wheel so sharply I smacked into the door panel. The car slowed at the side of the road. Without a word, Jack got out and headed for a dirt track leading into a cornfield.