“Well,” I said, “we shouldn’t be too disappointed at his selection, then. It indicates he’s not planning to kill us.”

“Yet,” Kinkaid said.

Joe grimaced. “You’re a real optimist, aren’t you?”

He frowned. “In general, yeah, I am. But as I said before, I know Hartwick better than you. If he’s involved in something dirty-and chances are he is-then he’ll be looking to eliminate any threat. As far as I can tell, that’s what you two are going to be to him.”

“It was your idea to call him.”

“I know. It wasn’t my idea to be kept out of the meeting, though. And I’m not about to let you two wander over there alone.”

“We’ve been over this,” Joe began, but Kinkaid held his hand up and interrupted.

“I understand you don’t want him to see me, and even though I don’t like that, I’ll go along with it. I’m just saying you’re going to need some backup with this guy. Now, is there anyplace I can sit with a good look at the scene?”

“Nowhere close,” Joe said. “That’s why this was a good choice for him, if he’s afraid of us. If you’re nearby he’s going to see you.”

“It’s getting pretty dark.”

“Come on, Kinkaid. The guy was a special ops soldier. This is what he’s trained for. I suppose you could hang out across the street, but even that’s a gamble.”

“The cemetery,” I said. “That’s where we can put him. Cemetery access isn’t from the avenue, but once he gets inside he can work his way up to right behind us.”

“That fence is six feet tall,” Joe objected. “It will block his vision.”

“It’s a chain-link fence, so it won’t be that much of a problem. But I wouldn’t have him up close to it anyhow. We’re not wanting him to be right on top of us, we’re wanting him to have a clear line of sight to watch for an approaching threat, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay. On the other side of the fence, the cemetery’s built on a hill. It’s a pretty gradual slope, but if he got up at the top of it he could see us clearly, as well as the rest of the parking lot.”

Kinkaid’s head was oscillating back and forth between Joe and me like a fan, listening to the debate. Joe considered it all, then gave me a nod.

“Top of the hill is the best option. He’s going to be fairly far away, but he’ll be able to see clearly, and that’s the most important thing. And it will be easier for him to get up there undetected than it would be to keep him on the other side of the street or hidden in the parking lot.”

“That’s the nice thing about Hartwick being an out-of-towner,” I said. “He’s got to handle this on the fly. We already know the terrain.”

“Right.” Joe looked at his watch. “And we’ve got to be moving. He said he’s down there now, and he expects to see us soon.” He looked at Kinkaid. “You have a gun and a cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Good. If you see anything you don’t like, call my phone, let it ring once, and hang up. If Lincoln and I hear that, we’ll clear out fast. If anything starts to go down, call the cops.”

Joe gave Kinkaid his cell phone number and told him how to get inside the cemetery. I opened my desk drawer and withdrew my Glock nine-millimeter. I checked the clip, then chambered a round so I’d be ready to fire instantly. I fastened my holster onto my belt, up against my spine, and then put the gun in it. My heartbeat had picked up a little, my senses heightening. I was ready to go.

Kinkaid left, and Joe and I waited a few minutes to give him time to get inside the cemetery. Outside the sky was darkening quickly, the shadows deepening along the window. Joe checked the Smith & Wesson he kept in his shoulder holster, then replaced it, leaving the buckle open.

“How do you feel?” he said.

“Couldn’t be better. You?”

He was calm, but there was a new tension to his posture. “I don’t know, LP. Something doesn’t feel good about this guy.”

“It’s just Kinkaid,” I said. “All that talk about how dangerous Hartwick is went to your head.”

“Sure.” He got to his feet and pulled his jacket on, leaving the zipper halfway down so he could reach for the gun easily. “Let’s roll.”

We took Joe’s Taurus. The Chinese restaurant was only a half mile from the office. Amy and I occasionally picked up carryout there. Not bad food, but a little heavy on the garlic. Fabulous wonton soup, though. Traffic was still quite thick with the lingering hangover from rush hour. Joe drove while I rode with my eyes on the street. Just like we’d done it thousands of times before. Only now we didn’t have the badges, and there was no dispatcher waiting to send us backup.

Joe pulled into the restaurant parking lot and stopped the car. A Dumpster stood in the corner of the lot alongside the cemetery fence. To the right was another wide expanse of parking lot, this stretch belonging to a drugstore. To the left was a Ford dealership with bright lighting and rows of shiny cars. There were five round picnic tables at the rear of the Chinese restaurant lot. In the summer there would be umbrellas over them, but now they were empty. A lone man sat at one of them, his back to the drugstore parking lot instead of to the cemetery fence as I’d expected. The green Oldsmobile was parked in front of his table, pointed toward the Ford dealership.

“That’s him,” I said. “With his back to the parking lot, no less. I guess he’s more trusting than we thought.”

Joe shook his head. “Nope. Just smarter than we thought. He’s got that Olds parked so he can look straight ahead and still keep an eye on the lot behind him using the side-view mirrors. He figures the cemetery presents more of a threat because it’s darker and less open, so he wants to be able to see it better than the parking lot.”

We got out of the car and walked toward the picnic table. Hartwick had his head turned slightly, watching our approach. His hands were under the table, out of sight. I kept my own right hand on my hip, edging toward my back slightly. I didn’t like not being able to see his hands.

We reached the table without incident, and I breathed a little easier. Hartwick nodded for us to sit. He was an average-size guy with a shaved head. His scalp was tan from the South Carolina sun, and the corded muscles of his neck told me that his body was well toned. He was like many of the Marines I’d known-not particularly large or intimidating but with a tightly muscled look that implied speed and power.

“Perry and Pritchard,” he said with a hollow smile. “Have a seat, gentlemen. And, Perry, do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Keep your hand away from the gun at your back.”

I took the hand away from my hip and placed both palms on the table as I sat. Hartwick was good, all right. He’d read my movements easily, and they hadn’t been overt.

“Nice to meet you, boys,” he said. “In case you’re wondering how I picked you out, Perry, it wasn’t too hard. Pritchard sounded older on the phone.”

“He’s pretty ancient,” I said. “Not a tough guess to make.”

“Uh-huh. You guys made a decent call yourselves, getting my name so quickly. I’ve got to give you credit for that. When you drove by the second time yesterday, I knew you’d noticed me, but I thought I’d bought a few days by putting the stolen plates on the rental car.”

“That wasn’t a bad trick,” Joe said. “We’re just too damn smart. Now, you want to tell us what you were doing there?”

“Watching the Russians,” Hartwick said. “Same thing you were doing, only I didn’t feel the need to talk to them in person.” He cocked his head at me. “What was that all about?”

“That was just bad timing,” I said.

His eyes left us momentarily and went to the cemetery, scanning the darkness, as if he’d heard or seen something he didn’t like there. I hadn’t heard a thing, but I knew Kinkaid should be up on the hill. Hartwick stared into the shadows for several seconds, then shifted position slightly and looked back at us.

“So you’re working for John?”