“Neither appeals to me.” Gif fiddled with the headset as he mulled over this new development. “Do you think he’s doing Elaine Conner?”

“I don’t know, but it wouldn’t surprise me. They’re chummy.”

“The Ford marriage sounds wobbly, if not rocky.”

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t partners in crime. Or at least they were when they killed Marian Harris.”

“But did they?” Gif brandished the headset. “This isn’t solid enough to issue them a parking ticket. Nobody, not the FBI, nobody would touch it. In fact, if we pass this along as evidence or even probable cause, any law officer in the land would laugh his ass off and then arrest us for violation of the privacy act.”

“Which is why we must proceed as we have been. On our own. Under the radar.”

Gif grimaced and tossed the headset onto the bed. “Drex—”

“Get Mike on the phone. Please.”

When they were on speaker, Drex addressed Mike. “Tomorrow the lovely couple next door are going on a getaway to Atlanta. I need you to find out the name of a new boutique hotel that poached a chef from a restaurant in New York. If you can—”

“The Lotus.”

“What?”

“That’s the hotel. I read an online article about the chef.”

Gif and Drex looked at each other and, in spite of the grim circumstances, smiled.

“Okay. Thanks,” Drex said. “Can you get there by tomorrow afternoon?”

“To Atlanta?”

“Don’t ask like that. Ever been there?”

“No.”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s nice where I am.”

“You can’t leave a trail, which means you can’t fly. You’ll have to drive.”

“How far is it?”

“Far. Google says almost four hundred miles.” Mike grumbled something unintelligible. Drex said, “I’m not in the mood to argue about it, Mike. It’s six hours in the car. You can snack all the way. Will you do it or not? If not, good night.”

After a brief silence, Mike said, “What do I do when I get there?”

“Check into The Lotus. Make a reservation tonight.”

“It’s costly.”

“I’ll pay.”

“It’s the weekend. What if it’s booked up?” Gif asked.

“Child’s play,” Mike said. “I’ll hack their system and cancel somebody’s reservation.” He paused. “I don’t suppose you’re sending me there to sample the five-star cuisine.”

“I’m sending you there to keep tabs on the Fords.”

“Are you nuts?” Gif exclaimed. “He couldn’t fade into the woodwork if they had a sequoia growing in the hotel lobby.”

“He’s not your typical undercover operative, no,” Drex said. “He’s obese and ugly—”

“I’m still here,” Mike said.

“—which is why no one would take him for a spy.”

Drex wanted Mike in Atlanta, but not only for the reason stated. He also wanted him out of Lexington. If the shit went down, he didn’t want Mike to be within Rudkowski’s reach. Eventually he would corral them, but Drex didn’t want to make it easy for him.

Gif, in his reasonable manner, suggested that he be sent to Atlanta instead. “I’m already in a neighboring state.”

“Yes, but Charleston is roughly a hundred and fifty miles farther. I checked. Besides, if Talia saw you, she might remember you from the coffee shop.”

“He’s unmemorable,” Mike said. “And what’s that about the coffee shop?”

“We’ll tell you later,” Drex said, impatience mounting. “Mike, can Sammy get you an untraceable car by morning?”

“With one phone call.”

Sammy—Drex wasn’t sure which alias was his real last name—was a mechanic who could make a rattletrap run like a Porsche. Early in Mike’s career with the bureau, he had been in on the sting that busted Sammy for transporting stolen merchandise across state lines.

Sammy had served time, but, by the time of his release, Mike was working with Drex and had seen the advantages of cultivating a relationship with a guy like Sammy, someone who was only a little crooked. They’d used Sammy and his larcenous automotive know-how more than a few times.

“The tricky part will be making the swap,” Mike said. “But Sammy is creative.”

“Leave as early as possible,” Drex said. “I’d like you in place by check-in time.”

“I’ll be missed when I don’t show up for work.”

“Hold on, you two,” Gif said. “Please. This plan has pitfalls I can see from here.”

After a few more minutes of back-and-forthing, Drex called an end to it, saying, “Either you’re in or out, guys. If you want out, no hard feelings. But tell me now or shut up.”

Neither said anything.

After a moment, Drex resumed. “Mike, I don’t know for sure how long they’re staying. You’ll have to find that out somehow. I’ll need to know when they’re on their way back. “

Gif looked around his motel room. “In the meantime, what’s my job?”

“Hang around until, or if, I need you for backup, and then come running.”

“What’ll you be doing?” Gif asked.

“Tearing their fucking house apart.”

Mike and Gif put up another argument that lasted for half an hour. But Drex was resolute. While the Fords were whiling away a few days in the luxury hotel, he would have access to their house, ergo to their lives.

He was going to search exhaustively until he found something that linked them to Marian Harris. The photo taken on her yacht wasn’t indicting. The authorities in Florida had used it to identify Jasper, aka Daniel Knolls, when Marian first went missing. He’d been interviewed by police and subsequently released.

Drex now wondered if Talia had also been questioned. He made a mental note to follow up with Deputy Gray.

He relegated that to the back burner of his mind and concentrated on what today might hold in store. His cohorts begged him to reconsider going inside the Fords’ home. They cited that it was a crime. They enumerated the obstacles he’d likely confront. Security alarm. Nanny cams.

“Hell, this freako might’ve booby-trapped the place,” Mike said.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Drex said. “I’ll be careful.”

“Say you get in without any trouble, and it turns out to be a gold mine of evidence,” Gif said. “What good is it going to do us? Anything you find will be inadmissible.”

“Anything I find will justify my killing him.”

That had shut them up.

After signing off with Mike, Gif packed his things in preparation of moving to another motel. “With a credit card no one knows I have,” he assured Drex.

The two of them left together in Gif’s car. Dawn was just about to break, but the difference between it and the night was negligible. The overcast was solid. Precipitation alternated between an all-out rain and a mist now heavy enough to make windshield wipers necessary.