“Open the door,” Lisa said.

He looked through the eyehole and let her in.

“What happened?” she asked, walking inside.

Ben peered out of the room to make sure Lisa was alone, then slammed the door and locked it.

Lisa scrunched up her face in disgust. “Nice place,” she said, noticing the peeling wallpaper. “Why didn’t we just meet in a sewer? It’s cleaner and safer.”

“Rick has my house bugged,” Ben said, his face glued to the eyehole on the door. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if yours was, too. I figured we needed a neutral place to talk.”

“Then tell me what happened,” Lisa said, sitting on one of the room’s twin beds.

Turning around, Ben leaned on the door. “They’re not out there,” he said. “They’re gone. I think they switched sides. That’s the only way-”

“Slow down-one thing at a time,” Lisa said. “Who’s not out there?”

Ben walked over to the other bed and sat down across from Lisa. “The marshals. DeRosa. They’re not out there,” he explained. “After talking to Ober, I pushed the panic button and-”

“You dialed the number in your house?” Lisa asked. “Are you crazy? Rick probably heard-”

“I went to a pay phone,” Ben interrupted. “The number’s out of service. It’s been disconnected.”

“Are you kidding me? But DeRosa said-”

“I know what he said. But it’s clear he lied. I think he’s been working with Rick from the beginning. Think about it: DeRosa wouldn’t let Lungen and Fisk know what’s going on, even though they’re the marshals assigned to the Court. He didn’t want me to tell anyone else what I had done. He never took an affidavit from me. He even told me to turn a decision over to Rick. I think Rick approached DeRosa before we did.”

“I don’t know,” Lisa said, grabbing one of the pillows on the bed. “Do you really think Rick has the resources to meet with the head of the Marshals Service?”

“Are you kidding?” Ben asked. “I walked right in to see him. You don’t think Rick can do the same thing?”

Lisa nodded. “But that doesn’t mean they’re necessarily working together.”

“So where does that leave me?”

“There aren’t many options. If I were you, I’d spend tomorrow trying to contact DeRosa. For all we know, the plan is still in effect, and his secretary simply mistyped the phone number.”

“And what if I still can’t contact him?”

“Then I’d think about ending it. Go to the press, go to Hollis, go to anyone that’ll listen, but get the story out there.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking for the past hour. If both DeRosa and Rick are against me, I’m dead.”

“Then there’s your answer,” Lisa said as she threw the pillow aside. “If you find DeRosa, great. But if he’s switched teams, you’ll go to the press and take them all down with you. Either way, you’ll be done with this by Sunday.”

“Great,” Ben said sarcastically. “Now all I have to do is figure out what I’m going to say to my friends.”

“Eric, it’s me,” Ben said, still sitting on the bed in his motel room.

“Where are you?” Eric asked. “Nathan said-”

“I’m at Lisa’s,” Ben lied. “I didn’t feel comfortable talking in the house.”

“Are you coming home tonight?”

“No. I’m sleeping here.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Eric said. “Tell me what’s happening. I heard Rick called again.”

“Forget about Rick. I want to get together with you guys so we can talk about what’s going on.”

“Tell me the place. I’ll be there.”

“I want everyone there,” Ben said. “You, Nathan, and Ober.”

“Fine. Where and when?”

“Tomorrow night at eight o’clock. And I want to meet at the place where we celebrated our first night in D.C.”

“At the-”

“Don’t say it,” Ben interrupted. “The phone’s not safe.”

“Oh, yeah. Ober told me.”

“Exactly,” Ben said. “Meanwhile, how is he holding up?”

“He’s a mess. I’ve never seen him like this before. Nathan and I spoke to him for almost two hours, and he’s still crying like crazy.”

“Has he told his parents yet?”

“He’s terrified to call them. You know how his mom is. She’ll be on his back the moment she hears what happened.”

“I know. I was thinking about that. To be honest, I think that’s what he’s most scared of.”

“I don’t think he’s scared of anything,” Eric said. “I’m not even sure he’s upset about his job. I think he’s more devastated by the fact that all of us aren’t getting along.”

“He was saying that when I was there.”

“It’s because he’s such a social animal,” Eric explained.

“He’s like a puppy-if everyone’s happy, he’s happy. But if everyone’s sad, he’s miserable.”

“Keep talking to him. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I agree. It’s just that-”

“Ben, is that you?” Nathan asked angrily as he picked up the phone in the living room. “Where the hell have you been for the past three hours? Get your ass-”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ben shot back. “If you want to kick and scream, come meet me tomorrow. I told Eric where.” Ben hung up the phone.

Early Saturday morning, Ben sat up in bed, unable to sleep. In the second bed was Lisa, who was having no such trouble. He looked at his watch and saw that it was seven in the morning. After taking the longest shower of his life, he turned on the television with the sound off, hoping to be distracted by cartoons. Unimpressed, he shut off the TV and returned to his bed. For a full hour, Ben stared at the white stucco ceiling.

At nine o’clock, Ben took the phone into the bathroom. Sitting on the closed toilet, he called information and asked for the number of the Marshals Service. He dialed the number and asked for Director DeRosa.

After a moment, a woman answered the phone. “Director DeRosa’s office. Can I help you?”

“Is the director in today?” Ben asked in his most genial tone.

“I’m sorry, he’s not. Is it anything I can help you with?”

“You probably can,” Ben said, recognizing the voice of DeRosa’s receptionist. “My name’s Ben Addison. I’m the guy who hand-delivered that message from Justice Hollis a couple of weeks ago. I have another message I’m supposed to relay, and I was wondering if you knew how to contact Director DeRosa.” For effect, Ben paused for a second. “It’s an emergency.”

“Hold on a moment,” the receptionist said. “I can try to transfer you to his home number.”

Ben prayed that DeRosa would explain everything: that it was a clerical error, that everything was fine, and everyone was still in place.

“Mr. Addison?”

“I’m here,” Ben said.

“I’m sorry, but the director won’t take your call. I just spoke to him, and he said he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He has no idea who you are.”

“He knows who I am,” Ben said. “You know who I am. I met you two weeks-”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Addison. I spoke to him personally, and that’s what he said.”

“What are you talking about? What’s your name?” Ben asked.

“Have a good day, Mr. Addison,” the receptionist said as she hung up.

As Ben put down the phone, reality set in. That’s it, he thought. I’m done. Staring down at the stark linoleum floor, Ben wondered exactly what his next move should be. His thoughts were interrupted when the bathroom door swung open. He looked up and saw Lisa, who had obviously been listening.

“What’d they say?” she asked.

“DeRosa’s gone,” Ben said, his voice shaking. “He’s denying he ever met me.”

“Then that’s it-it’s over,” Lisa said, leaning on the door frame. “Are you going to go to the press?”

“I don’t know about the press, but I have to tell someone.”

“You should tell Hollis.”

“Maybe,” Ben said as his mind worked through all the consequences. “I was thinking that I should also put my story in writing. That way, no matter what happens, it’ll all be documented.”