Suit went to the coffeemaker and poured some coffee. He offered the cup toward Molly; she shook her head. So he kept it and walked back to the conference table.

"What about me," Perkins said.

"Get your own," Suit said. "We lost track of them for a time, and then they surfaced, marrying Knocko and Reggie about four months apart."

"And they were connected to the twins' father," Molly said.

"Yeah," Suit said. "Jesse can tell you about that."

"Got a lot of this from a state police detective in the Norfolk DA's office," Jesse said. "With a little help from Rita Fiore."

"She's such a little helper," Molly said.

Jesse outlined what Traxal had told him.

"Ah," Molly said. "That's why you're so interested in the twins' sex life."

"If they were still Bang Bang," Jesse said, "it might have something to do with the murders."

"Yes," Molly said, and looked at Suit.

"Know anything about that?" she said.

Suit smiled and nodded.

"In fact, I do," he said.

35

I STARTED, " Suit said, "the way you would. Check out their social circle, talk to their friends, see if there was somebody knew something."

Suit shook his head.

"No social circle?" Molly said.

"None that I could find," Suit said. "Everybody who knew the ladies said they were nice. But nobody knew them very well."

"So, what did you do?" Molly said.

Molly's something, Jesse thought. Suit's proud of himself, and she's helping him tell about it.

"I went back door," Suit said. "I got a license picture from the registry and took it around to the motels in the area."

"Which one?" Perkins said.

Suit looked slightly annoyed. It was his moment, and he didn't like the interruption.

"Which one what?" Suit said.

"Which one you get a picture of?"

"What's the difference," Suit said. "They look exactly the same."

"Just wondering," Perkins said.

"It took a while," Suit said. "But I was guessing they weren't playing their game at home."

"They might have been," Perkins said.

Suit took a breath.

"Sure," he said. "But if they were, it gave me no place to look and nothing to do."

Perkins nodded. Jesse remembered saying that to Suit on the first case they ever worked. If there's two possibilities, take the one that gives you someplace to go. Kid's a learner, Jesse thought.

"So, I found a clerk at the Beach House in Danvers… which ain't on the beach and ain't a house… This clerk remembered her checking in couple of times."

"Which one?" Perkins said.

"See my answer above," Suit said. "He remembers how good-looking she was, and very nice, checking in with a small suitcase in the middle of the day."

"She use her own name?" Jesse said.

"Bangston," Suit said. "Rebecca Bangston."

"So it was Rebecca," Perkins said. "Not Roberta."

"Who knows," Suit said. "We ran back through the registrations and found a bunch of Bangstons. Sometimes Rebecca, sometimes Roberta."

"You get the credit-card numbers?" Jesse said.

"Yep," Suit said. "Ran 'em past the credit-card company and got a pretty good list of motels and hotels where one or the other was used."

"What address does the credit-card company have for them?" Jesse said.

"Hempstead, Mass.," Suit said.

"Their mother?" Jesse said.

"Yep."

"Sounds like the Bang Bang Twins are alive and well," Jesse said.

"Now what?" Molly said.

"We'll look at the list," Jesse said.

36

THEY HAD COME in Spike's Lincoln Navigator. Spike was too big for Sunny's car. The Navigator was parked behind them, on a side road west of Framingham. They were standing in some woods, looking at the Rackley Young Adult Center, which appeared, from the front, like an expensive prep school, with a broad, welcoming walkway leading across a pleasant lawn to the front door. A chain-link fence enclosed the back lawn and ran up to the corners of the building. From the back it looked more like a prison.

"Here we go," Sunny said, and punched a number on her cell phone.

"This is Jessica Stone," she said. "With the State Inspectional Services. May I speak with the director. Yes, Dr. Patton."

Spike nodded.

"Done your homework," he murmured.

Sunny put her hand over the phone and nodded.

"Dr. Patton?" she said, when he came on the phone. "Jessica Stone, State Inspectional Services. We have reason to believe that you are harboring a fugitive."

"Fugitive?" Patton said.

"Cheryl DeMarco," Sunny said.

"We have no one here by that name," Patton said.

"Perhaps she's under another name," Sunny said. "In any case, I did not call you to debate. We will be at your office at nine a.m. with a bench warrant. If you do not produce her, we will search the facility."

"You can't be serious," Patton said.

"Don't produce her tomorrow," Sunny said. "You'll see how serious I am."

She turned off the cell phone.

"State Inspectional Services?" Spike said. "Do you even know what that is?"

"No," Sunny said. "But I'll bet he doesn't, either."

"And excuse me, but exactly how does a bench warrant differ from a regular warrant."

"No idea," Sunny said. "Heard it once on Law and Order."

"And you figure they'll panic and try to get her out of there before you descend on them in the morning."

"My guess," Sunny said.

"And we'll be here to take her away from them."

"Yes," Sunny said. "I checked out the entire building yesterday. If they want to get her out, they have to come out the front door and walk down the long path to the street. The rest is fenced, with no gate."

"What if Patton doesn't fall for it?" Spike said.

"What have we lost?" Sunny said. "We've poked a stick into the hive. Something will happen."

"Unless the kid isn't there," Spike said.

"Unless that," Sunny said.

"This a legitimate place?" Spike said.

"I would guess partially, but they cut some corners," Sunny said.

"How about the good doctor?"

"Dr. Abraham Patton," Sunny said. "He has an Ed.D. in educational statistics."

"What's that got to do with running a treatment center?"

"Not much," Sunny said. "But it entitles him to call himself Doctor."

"Of course, credentials aren't everything," Spike said. "I had shrinks with all the right degrees, didn't help me at all."

"You were seeing shrinks?" Sunny said.

"When I was worried about if I was gay," Spike said.

"You are gay," Sunny said.

"Gayer than laughter," Spike said. "But I couldn't quite figure out how I could be a tough guy…"

"Which you certainly are," Sunny said.

"Got the build for it," Spike said. "But I had to figure out that being gay didn't mean I wasn't tough."

"Somebody helped you with that," Sunny said.

"One of the shrinks was good."

"You're not so bad yourself," Sunny said.

"That's true," Spike said. "I did the work. But I did the work with the others and nothing came of it… They were trying to cure me."

"Think how different we'd be," Sunny said, "if you weren't gay."

"Your loss," Spike said.

"I don't know," Sunny said. "You're awful big."

"Anyway," Spike said. "Even if he is very good, and even if they're legit, he's not going to want a lot of attention paid."

"Because his credentials raise questions?"

"They do," Spike said. "And it wouldn't help business if they came under public discussion."

"Wow," Sunny said. " 'Under public discussion.' Don't you talk good."

"A natural poet," Spike said.

"If my girlish calculations are correct," Sunny said, "it's considerably shorter from these trees to the road than it is from the front door to the road."