A pause. Samuel was likely speaking.
“I can’t tell you that.”
Another pause.
“I can’t tell you that either.”
A shadow crossed the thin strip of light under the door.
“I will. I promise.”
A longer pause. I imagined Samuel sitting at the kitchen island in the safehouse in Newton, with Vega somewhere in the next room making coffee.
“I love you.”
Wiley was quiet, but he didn’t hang up.
Five seconds passed, and then ten. I could hear the faint hum of the handset. Wiley wasn’t talking, and he wasn’t hanging up either.
I had no idea what fifteen years of marriage sounded like at four in the morning when one of you was in a safehouse and the other was in a different safehouse.
Wiley spoke softly. “I’ll call you when I can.”
The handset clicked off.
I joined Dane in the room we’d been using for sleep while the others kept watch on the house. He’d stripped the bed to the mattress and bagged the linens. His duffel sat at his feet, half-zipped. He was running a microfiber cloth along the top edge of the dresser.
“Bathroom’s done,” he said.
I pulled my duffel out of the closet and joined him. He looked up.
I caught the back of Dane’s neck and kissed him. It was short, and his mouth was warm. His free hand found my hip and stayed there for the length of it, then let go.
He stepped back first. “Five minutes, Farrow.”
“I know.”
It was long enough to brush my teeth and remove the evidence.
“I’ll gather Cabot and Wiley,” he said. “You secure the ground floor.”
Fifteen minutes later, it was oh-three-forty-nine. Three vehicles already idled at the curb, lights off. Dane came down the stairs with Wiley and Cabot following. All three were silent.
Reed reported that he’d seen no one on the street for more than half an hour. That didn’t comfort me.
“Ready?” Dane asked. Wiley wiped his eyes but said nothing. He nodded along with Cabot.
The lead SUV was Collins. I knew the silhouette of his head against the dash light before I’d cleared the steps. The middle vehicle was a second Guardians runner, a woman named Pereira. The third was a contractor I didn’t know, sitting in a sedan two car-lengths back.
Dane took Cabot to the lead SUV. Collins had the door open before they reached the curb. Cabot folded himself in. Dane closed the door, walked around to the far side, and was inside in five seconds.
I steered Wiley to the middle vehicle. Pereira had the door already ajar. He climbed in without looking back at the house. He shifted to the far seat and put his hands flat on his thighs.
I climbed in beside him and pulled the door shut. Reed locked the house’s green door and climbed into the sedan.
Reed’s sedan pulled away from the curb first. He’d play a fake principal in the back seat, hunched in a coat, with his head down and cap pulled low. Anyone tracking us would have to choose—lead car, second car, or third.
Collins pulled out next, taking Cabot and Dane south toward Mount Vernon.