Mallory smiled. “Now, see, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen, with you being a former agent. Not that I wouldn’t have hired you anyway for your experience,” she hastened to add, “but those contacts at the federal level are priceless. I’ll bet the information you got from her will prove to be very helpful to your case.”

“It’s beginning to look that way.” Sam sighed. He hated deception in any form. He looked at Mallory, who was so pleased to have him on her staff, and knew he couldn’t keep any of this from her. She deserved to know what was going on. What the hell had he been thinking, that he’d hesitated to tell her?

He had just needed to remind himself who he was working for here.

“Actually, Mallory, there’s something we need to-”

Mallory’s cell phone rang and as she reached into her pocket for it, the hand holding the mug turned toward Sam.

WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, MANIPULATE THE DATA, it read.

She glanced at the number. “Gotta take this-it’s the boss. Maybe you can fill me in at lunch. Trula’s doing burgers and homemade fries today.”

She answered the call as she left the room and Sam tapped his pen on the side of his own mug. (GOOD MORNING! LET THE STRESS BEGIN!)

He’d placed a call to John Mancini earlier that morning and was still awaiting a callback. He knew Fiona was tied up, so he didn’t expect to hear from her until later in the afternoon, and then only if she had something new to tell him. In the meantime, Sam was trying to separate his personal feelings from his professional responsibilities. Any way you sliced it, he needed to lay it all out for the others here at the Foundation. They needed to know that he could possibly be a player in the case he was supposed to be resolving for their client.

But how could he possibly look Lynne Walker in the eye and tell her that had it not been for someone with an ax to grind with him, her husband would still be alive?

He ran a hand through his hair and thought that if this were happening to someone else he probably wouldn’t believe it.

“Hey, good news.” Mallory poked her head back in. “That was Robert. He and Susanna are on their way back. They should be here in a few hours, so you’ll finally get to meet your new boss.” She glanced at her watch. “Gotta run. I’m supposed to be interviewing someone right now.”

“Talk to you later.” Sam nodded and forced a smile.

“And I’m sure looking forward to meeting Robert Magellan today,” he muttered after Mallory disappeared into the hall. “So I can tell him about the wrench I’m throwing into his new case.”

“Walk me through this again, Sam,” Robert said after the hoopla of his return had died down and Sam had been called in to his office to meet him. “You think our client’s husband may have been murdered by someone who’s trying to get your attention?”

Sam had been surprised to find the man alone in the room. He’d been hoping that Mallory would be there, too, so he could get this over with once and for all.

“It’s beginning to look like it.” Sam’s jaw clenched with the tension. This was one hell of a way to introduce yourself to your new boss. “I’d like to say that maybe I’m wrong-maybe the FBI is wrong-but I’ve gone over this thing backwards and forwards and I honestly can’t see this any other way. Someone is playing with my head, and it’s working.”

“Have you discussed this with Mallory?”

“Not yet, sir. I was going to this morning but she-”

Robert groaned. “Please. Do not sir me. I hate to be sirred.”

“Sorry. Habit.”

“Have you mentioned this to our client? What’s her name?”

“Lynne Walker.”

“Right. Walker. Does she know about this?”

“No. As I said, this theory just came to light yesterday, and I wanted to discuss it with Mallory. And you, of course.”

“Then that’s all this is? A theory?”

“The killer has struck three times in places that have some significance to me-on dates that are significant to me-because he’s trying to get my attention. Send me a message.” Sam slumped in the chair.

“What places?” Robert was obviously intrigued. “What dates?”

“The town in which I went to college…”

“Which was?”

“Lincoln, Nebraska. UNL.”

“University of Nebraska-Lincoln is a big school, isn’t it? Main campus, right?”

“Yes.”

“How many students, would you say?”

“Last alumni bulletin said something in the area of eighteen thousand undergrads.”

“And what’s the population of Lincoln?”

“About a quarter of a million, I suppose.”

“But given all those people, you still think this murder has something to do with you?” Robert looked skeptical. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“The murders in Lincoln and in Dutton-I went to high school in Dutton-both occurred on February ninth. Which is also my birthday. The murder in Kendall, Illinois-where my late wife grew up, where she’s buried-happened on August fifteenth. The date of her murder.”

The room was silent as a tomb.

Finally, Robert said, “Your wife… was murdered?”

“Yes. The three-year anniversary just passed.”

“I don’t know what to say, Sam.”

“That’s okay. I guess it’s all been said, but thank you. And condolences to you, too. About your wife. Your son.”

“Changes your life in ways you could never imagine, doesn’t it?”

“To put it mildly, yes.”

The two men regarded each other for a moment, each acknowledging the other’s loss until Robert broke the silence by moving past it.

“This puts a different spin on things.” Robert rubbed his chin. “The dates, the places…” He nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s all pointing back to you, isn’t it?”

“That’s how it seems to me, and to the FBI as well. So if you want me to resign and go on back to-”

“Why would I want you to do that?” Robert frowned. “Our job is to solve this murder for Mrs. Walker. Who is going to be better able to do that than you?”

Sam was speechless for a moment. “It could be seen as a conflict of interests.”

“A conflict of whose interests? She wants the case solved, you want the case solved. We want it solved. Now more than ever. We’re willing to put all our resources behind you to that end. And the FBI is going to work with you on this, right?”

“Right.”

“I don’t see the conflict. As long as you’re not afraid of pursuing this, I don’t-”

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Because the killer is probably after you, right? Why else would he be trying to get your attention? Why wouldn’t you be afraid?”

“I’ve had killers after me before,” Sam told him.

“And that didn’t scare you?” Robert’s eyebrows rose.

“It made me more aware of my surroundings, made me more conscious of who and what was going on around me, but I wasn’t scared to the point where I couldn’t do my job.”

“Let me ask you something. Those cases-the ones where someone was hunting you-how did they end?”

“Twice with the killer being arrested, prosecuted, and sentenced to prison. The other was shot and killed by a SWAT team.”

“So in other words, each time you got your man; he didn’t get you.”

“In other words, yeah.”

“That’s the bottom line, Sam. Get the fucker.” Robert sat all the way back in his chair and it tipped toward the wall. He was about to say something else when Father Burch came into the room.

Robert stood and the two men embraced.

“I heard there’s reason to be optimistic,” the priest said.

“We’re pretty sure Ian was alive, at least while he was in the cabin.” Robert’s joy was written all over his face. Sam got up to leave. This was a family moment, and he thought the cousins might want to have some time alone, but Robert stopped him.

“No, no, don’t feel you have to leave. Tell Kevin what you were just telling me. Wait. Let me get Mallory in on this. And Emme.” He paused with his hand over the phone. “Hell, let’s just all go down to the kitchen and have a meeting and tell everyone at the same time.”