“Cabot?” Wiley asked.
“He’ll come down when he comes down,” Farrow said. “Tough times are coming with Eleanor. Let him have the extra fifteen minutes.”
My phone buzzed. It was Eamon, three minutes early.
“They moved Sorensen’s call up. Sorensen turned a light off, and they took the shift in her status as the cleanest entry they were going to get. Breach in forty seconds.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll call you when she’s down.”
He hung up.
I repeated, “Forty seconds,” and there was no sound except Samuel stirring his batter.
Three minutes later, Eamon called again.
“Sorensen in custody. No resistance. She was in the kitchen with a coffee maker running. She put her hands flat on the counter when the door opened.”
“Voss next?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I set the phone down.
“Sorensen,” I said.
Wiley exhaled. Samuel started dropping scone dough onto a baking sheet.
“One down,” Wiley said.
Farrow drank his coffee.
The floor creaked above us. Cabot was up. As he came down the stairs, a second, lighter step followed. That would be Vega.
Cabot stopped two steps inside the kitchen and read the room the way he read a room at the Harcourts’.
“Sorensen?” he asked.
“In custody,” I said. “Three minutes ago.”
He nodded once and stood with his hip leaning on the kitchen counter. Vega walked past him to grab a mug of coffee.
“Dane, what do I say first?” Cabot asked.
All the attention shifted towards him.
“To Eleanor, I mean.”
“You haven’t even gotten the briefing yet,” Farrow said. “Eamon will walk you through it on the drive.”
“I know, but I’m asking, anyway.”
“You lead with what federal did at five,” I said. “Three operatives in custody. Bomb squad recovered a device at a fourth address. It was arranged from inside the household. You stop there.”
“I stop?”
“You let her ask the next question.”