“You mean stick to business. No socializing, no chatting, no jogging together…”

“Right.”

I shook my head. “You said he was clean, and I trust you.” I glanced at him. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

A hesitation, then a soft exhale. “Yeah.”

We’d agreed to meet Felix and Quinn at a baseball diamond in Chicago. When we arrived, Quinn and Felix were right inside the gates. I saw Quinn first, a tray of hot dogs and sodas in his hands, wearing worn jeans and a T-shirt that pulled tight over his broad shoulders. His gaze lighted on me, and he grinned. My stomach did a little flip. I blamed it on the smell of the food.

“Got you a hot dog,” Quinn said, thrusting it out like a bouquet of roses.

Beside me, Jack made a noise, half grunt, half sigh.

“Don’t glower, Jack,” Quinn said. “Got you one, too.”

I took mine with thanks. Jack just looked at the tray.

Felix walked up behind Quinn and raised a half-eaten hot dog. “I can assure you, Jack, they’re quite fine. He isn’t trying to poison us…yet.”

“One could argue that all hot dogs are poisonous,” I said, as we fell into step and headed for the bleachers. “If you eat enough, they have to be at least as lethal as arsenic.”

“Shhh,” Quinn said. Then he held out the tray again. “Jack, have another.”

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jack said.

“Someone’s in a fucking fantastic mood. We are finally going to nail this bastard.”

Quinn grinned at me, and I felt an answering rush of excitement. I was finally on my target’s trail, so close I could narrow my eyes and visualize him in my scope.

When I smiled back, Quinn’s grin grew and he swung out of the way to let me head into the bleacher row. He tried to follow, but Jack cut in front of him. Quinn waited for Jack to pass, then darted into the aisle below, passed us and vaulted over the bench to sit on my other side, still grinning, looking like a kid who’s outwitted the teacher. I couldn’t help laughing.

“You think he’ll show?” I said, as we settled into the bleacher seats.

“I sure hope so, because if he does, he’s toast.” His eyes gleamed. “This bastard has taken his last victim. We’re bringing him down and I cannot fucking wait to see it.”

“Got that impression,” Jack said.

Quinn only rolled his eyes, enthusiasm undimmed, so stoked he was practically bouncing in his seat. As I watched him, I felt a pang of envy. Quinn felt no need to emulate Jack and treat this with quiet professionalism. I could only sit there, basking in his fire, struggling to remember what it felt like to be that open, that unguarded.

Felix pitched his trash into the distant can with perfect aim. “I know you’re hoping to be the one to snap on the cuffs, Quinn, but remember, there’s a good chance it won’t be us.”

“That’s fine. Sure, I’d love to take him down myself, but if it’s the Feds or the locals, good enough.”

“He’ll be caught,” I said. “And that’s all that matters.”

As he nodded, our eyes met.

“Great idea,” Jack said. “But a plan would help.”

“Already got one.” Quinn pulled two pieces of cardboard from his pocket, then fanned them, and leaned closer to me. “If you don’t have any plans for this evening, I thought maybe we could take in an opera. I hear it’s going to be a good show. Chock-full of danger, adventure, mystery…and, if you want, maybe we could even see the opera afterward.”

I smiled and plucked the tickets from his hand. “So what are these? Forgeries?”

“Uh-uh. With tonight’s security, it’s the real deal or none at all. The theater’s only about two-thirds full, so I nabbed these easily enough.” He glanced around me. “We can get more for you guys if you want.”

“Really?” Felix said. “You see, Jack, we aren’t invisible over here after all.”

“Hey, I included you two. You can come in if you want, but I figured two in and two out would be better. It makes sense for Dee to be one of the two going in and, well, if she’s going to have a date, I’m the natural choice.”

Felix arched a brow. “You are?”

“You know, the age thing,” Quinn said.

“Jack and I will pretend we didn’t hear that.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Jack said. “Partners. Dee -”

“-is your partner,” Quinn said. “But-”

“She’s worked with me. Not does work. Has worked.”

I folded my napkin and tucked it into my empty hotdog box. “Jack’s right. I know his style and with something this big, I need a familiar partner. I do agree two of us should go in, so if Jack would rather not, then I guess you and Felix-”

“Nah,” Jack said. “Two guys? People still notice.”

“A man and a woman would be less conspicuous, particularly if we pick up fake wedding rings. As for the age difference, at these events, it’s pretty much a given. Older guys, second wives-” I caught Jack’s look. “Not that you’re older. Well, older than me, but-” I checked my watch. “We’d better move if we’re going to do this. I’ll need a dress.”

“Nice save,” Felix said. “And, yes, you will need a gown. This opera house evidently has a black-tie dress code for these opening weeks. Jack will require a tuxedo.”

Quinn snorted a laugh, but Felix cut him off before he could say anything. “There’s a shopping plaza nearby with suitable shops for formal wear. I’m sure Jack can select his own, but if Dee requires any assistance-or merely a second opinion-I can help. I have some experience shopping there for formal gowns.”

Quinn looked at Felix, brows raised.

“I find women’s wear an excellent disguise,” Felix said. “Particularly evening dresses.”

Quinn kept staring.

“I have had lady friends in Chicago, Quinn, and have escorted them to the symphony and such, occasions for which women often appreciate new evening wear.”

“Oh.”

Felix shook his head. “While poor Quinn works that out, may I suggest we move straight to shopping? That should give him time to recover, then retrieve the blueprints and security details.”

We finished our hot dogs, and left.

THIRTY-THREE

Jack checked us into a motel on the outskirts of Chicago. Felix and Quinn would presumably find one elsewhere. I could tell Jack wasn’t comfortable with the prolonged time together, but there was little we could do under the circumstances except keep our guard up and remember that there was no reason for anyone to be tracking us. Had this been a job, that would be a concern, but here, attention was focused on our target, and no one was looking for us.

The opera curtain was ninety minutes away, and the doors would open in forty-five. I was ready to go, dress on and hair fixed in the best updo I could manage with bobby pins and a hand mirror. Jack had showered and shaved, but still had to throw on his tux, so I left him to do that and went outside to find Quinn.

It was dark already, and the motel poorly lit, but I located him on the other side of the lot, leaning against the fence, watching the highway traffic whiz past. He’d changed into black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt-dark enough for recon work outside the theater, but common enough street wear not to attract attention. He’d also switched to dark hair, and from his profile I could see that he’d added a beard and mustache. Guess he wanted a little more of a disguise in case he bumped into someone from the FBI task force. Further proof that I was right about him being a Fed. FBI or DEA was my guess. A field agent-he didn’t strike me as a desk jockey-but he obviously still had enough clout to get all the info we needed without raising eyebrows. And the clout to get the time off.

As my heels clicked across the asphalt, Quinn turned. He stared. Then he stared some more.

I laughed. “Don’t tell me I look that different.”

“No, just…wow.”

I blushed.

“You look good as a redhead,” he said. “That must be closer to your natural-I mean, it suits you.”