He didn’t push further. I logged the two sedans on the right side of the street and kept walking.
For a moment, I’d forgotten about the earpiece. Dane heard every word.
We turned at the bottom and started the long curve back.
A van sat at the corner of Walnut and Chestnut. It was white with no markings and idled, exhaust plumes rising in the pre-dawn air.
The driver wore a brown Carhartt with the collar turned up. His hands were on the wheel in the ten-and-two position. Nobody told him that real delivery drivers don’t sit at ten and two.
He didn’t look at us directly. He tracked us in his peripheral vision.
I didn’t break stride. I registered the plate in one pass.
After we passed, the van moved off the curb and started south toward Charles. The signal came on at the corner.
Wiley knew something had happened. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing you need to solve right now.”
We turned the last corner toward the house.
“Was that — “
“Later.”
He exhaled and let it go.
When the door closed behind us, my shoulders relaxed. I pulled the earpiece out and held it in my palm a moment before I closed my fingers around it.
The hall smelled faintly of Dane’s coffee. I found him in the kitchen and gave him the van details, including the plate.
Wiley went straight to the couch and the laptop. This time he didn’t hesitate before opening it. The walk had done what it needed to do. His focus came back as if he’d retrieved it from the street.
My phone buzzed. It was Eamon calling. I instantly put it on speaker.
“Farrow.”
“Price.”
“I have an update,” Eamon said.
“Go.”
“I’ve set up a meeting with Patterson. Tomorrow morning at a Guardians-controlled site.”
Wiley froze on the couch.
Cabot looked up.
Dane didn’t move.
“He says he wants to clear something up,” Eamon said.
“Did he offer, or did you ask?”
A brief pause. “He offered.”
“He’s either clean and scared,” Wiley said quietly, eyes on a screen he wasn’t reading, “or he’s not clean at all.”