Bad follows some people. It hooks into them and never lets them go.

And simple as it sounded, you don't want those people around you.

Lance knocked on Marsha Hunter's door. The two uniforms stood behind him in vee formation. The sun had begun its ascent. They listened for a sound.

Nothing.

He saw the doorbell. Marsha Hunter, he knew, had two young children. If Matt wasn't here, he'd feel bad about waking them, but that couldn't be helped. He pressed the bell and heard the chime.

Still nothing.

Just for the heck of it, Lance tried the door, hoping it might be unlocked. It wasn't.

The officer on Lance's right started shifting his feet. "Kick it in?"

"Not yet. We don't even know if he's here."

He rang the bell again, keeping his finger pressed against it until it rang a third time too.

The other cop said, "Detective?"

"Give it a few more seconds," he said.

As if on cue, the foyer light snapped on. Lance tried to look through the pebble glass, but the view was too distorted. He kept his face pressed against it searching for movement.

"Who is it?"

The female voice was tentative- understandable under the circumstances.

"It's Detective Lance Banner, Livingston Police. Could you open the door, please?"

"Who?"

"Detective Lance Banner, Livingston Police. Please open the door."

"Just a minute."

They waited. Lance kept peering through the pebble glass. He could make out a hazy figure coming down the stairs now. Marsha Hunter, he assumed. Her steps were as tentative as her voice. He heard a bolt slide and a chain rattle and then the door was opened.

Marsha Hunter had a bathrobe tied tightly around her waist. The robe was old and terrycloth. It looked like it belonged to a man. Lance wondered for a brief second if it had been her late husband's. Her hair was mussed. She wore no makeup, of course, and while Lance had always considered her an attractive woman, she could have used the touches.

She looked at Lance, then at the two officers at his wing, then back to Lance. "What do you want at this hour?"

"We're looking for Matt Hunter."

Her eyes narrowed. "I know you."

Lance said nothing.

"You coached my son last year in rec soccer. You have a boy Paul's age."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Not ma'am," she said, her voice sharp. "My name is Marsha Hunter."

"Yes, I know."

"We're your neighbors, for crying out loud." Marsha again took in the uniformed men before returning her gaze to Lance. "You know I live alone with two young boys," she said, "yet you wake us up like storm troopers?"

"We really need to talk to Matt Hunter."

"Mommy?"

Lance recognized the boy coming down the stairs. Marsha gave Lance a baleful eye before turning to her son. "Go to bed, Ethan."

"But, Mom…"

"I'll be up in a moment. Go back to bed." She turned back to Lance. "I'm surprised you don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"Matt doesn't live here," she said. "He lives in Irvington."

"His car is in your driveway."

"So?"

"So is he here?"

"What's going on?"

Another woman was at the top of the stairs.

"Who are you?" Lance asked.

"My name is Olivia Hunter."

"Olivia Hunter as in Mrs. Matt Hunter?"

"Excuse me?"

Marsha looked back at her sister-in-law. "He was just asking why your car is in the driveway."

"At this hour?" Olivia Hunter said. "Why would you want to know that?"

"They're looking for Matt."

Lance Banner said, "Do you know where your husband is, Mrs. Hunter?"

Olivia Hunter started to move down the stairs. Her steps, too, were deliberate. Maybe that was the tip-off. Or maybe it was her clothes. She was, after all, wearing clothes. Regular clothes. Jeans and a sweatshirt. Not nightclothes. No robe, no pajamas. At this hour.

That didn't make sense.

When Lance glanced back at Marsha Hunter, he saw it. A small tell on her face. Damn, how could he have been so stupid? The turning on the light, the walking down the stairs, the slow walk right now… it had all taken too long.

He spun to the uniformed cops. "Check around back. Hurry."

"Wait," Olivia shouted too loudly. "Why are your men going to the backyard?"

The cops started running- one toward the right, one to the left. Lance looked at Marsha. She stared back at him defiantly.

That was when they heard a woman's scream.

"What's going on?" Olivia asked.

"That was Midlife," Matt said. "Charles Talley and Max Darrow are both dead."

"Oh, my God."

"And unless I'm mistaken," he continued, gesturing toward the window, "these guys are here to arrest me for their murders."

Olivia closed her eyes, tried to ride it out. "What do you want to do?"

"I have to get out of here."

"You mean, we have to get out of here."

"No."

"I'm going with you, Matt."

"You're not the one they want. They have nothing on you. At worst they think you cheated on your husband. You just refuse to answer any questions. They can't hold you."

"So you're just going to run?"

"I have no choice."

"Where will you go?"

"I'll figure that out. But we can't communicate. They'll be watching the house, tapping the phone."

"We need a plan here, Matt."

"How about this," he said. "We meet up in Reno."

"What?"

"Tomorrow at midnight. The address you said- 488 Center Lane Drive."

"You still think there's still a chance that my daughter…"

"I doubt it," Matt said. "But I also doubt Darrow and Talley were doing this on their own."

Olivia hesitated.

"What?"

"How are you going to get across the country that fast?"

"I don't know. If I can't make it, we'll figure out something later. Look, it's not a great plan, but we don't have time for anything better."

Olivia took a step forward. He felt it again in his chest, the gentle thrum. She had never looked so beautiful or vulnerable. "Do we have time for you to say you still love me?"

"I do love you. More than ever."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he said.

"Even after…?"

"Even after."

She shook her head. "You're too good for me."

"Yeah, I'm a prince."

Olivia laughed through the sob. He put his arms around her.

"We'll get into this later, but right now we need to find your daughter."

Something she had said- about this life being worth fighting over. It resonated in him, even more than the revelations. He would fight. He would fight for both of them.

Olivia nodded, wiped her tears. "Here. I only have twenty dollars."

He took it. They risked a glance out the window. Lance Banner was approaching the front door, flanked by two cops. Olivia moved in front of him as if readying to take a bullet.

"You sneak out back," Olivia said. "I'll wake up Marsha, tell her what's going on. We'll try to stall them."

"I love you," he said.

She gave him the crooked smile. "Good to hear." They kissed hard and quick. "Don't let anything happen to you," she said.

"I won't."

He headed downstairs and started toward the back door. Olivia was already in Marsha's room. It wasn't right to drag Marsha into this, but what choice did they have? From the kitchen he could see another police car pull up to the front.

There was a knock on the door.

No time. Matt had something of a plan. They were not far from the East Orange Water Reservation, which was basically a forest. Matt had gone through it countless times as a child. Once inside he'd be difficult to find. He'd be able to work his way toward Short Hills Road and from there, well, suffice to say that he needed outside help.

He knew where to go.

His hand was on the back-door knob. Matt heard Lance Banner ring the bell. He turned the knob and pushed open the door.