Perry said to Hooley, “You don’t have to worry about our shooting ourselves in the foot or you or Connie by accident. Now, as for Davis, I’ll have to think about that. Mom and I used to shoot together every month or so. Right, Mom? Have you practiced lately?”

“It’s been a while. You know as well as we do, Hooley, once you get good, your muscle habits are set. Now, I’d like to speak to Agent Sullivan myself.”

Hooley said, his voice desperate, “Agent Sullivan should be here in fifteen minutes or so, ma’am. I don’t think he’s going to approve of you and Perry carrying weapons.”

Perry shrugged, looked at her watch, then patted the Kimber snug against her waist. “Mom’s boy toy should be here by now. Let’s go see if he wastes time ranting or if he decides to be reasonable. Hooley, would you ask Mr. Sallivar to come to the house?”

When Davis walked into the living room, the first words Hooley had for him were “Be careful the clients don’t shoot you, Sullivan.”

Words jumped back and forth for a full two minutes before Davis realized this living room wasn’t the best terrain for a battle. He’d pound on Perry later, after he’d separated her from the Kimber. As for Natalie and her Walther PPK, he simply couldn’t imagine even Savich talking her out of anything she’d set her mind to. Better to retreat for the moment. He turned to Mr. Sallivar, who’d been watching with a fascinated eye the back-and-forth among Mrs. Black, her daughter, and these big men who were protecting them. Now he looked at Davis.

Davis said, “Sir, did Carlos know the FBI would be talking with him today? Is that why he failed to come to work?”

“If that’s so, Agent Sullivan, I didn’t know anything about it. Why? Is Carlos in trouble?”

“We need to ask him some questions. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“As I told Mr. Hooley, I know where he lives, but he is not at home.”

Davis thought for a moment. “Did Carlos ever express any anger or resentment toward Mrs. Black or toward Perry?”

Mr. Sallivar looked horrified. “Oh, no, never. Carlos believes Mrs. Black is a great lady.” He bobbed his head toward her. “I have heard Carlos bragging that he works for the ambassador to the United Kingdom.”

Davis said, “Tell us about Carlos, sir?”

Mr. Sallivar said, “I am told Carlos looks like me. He is about my size, only he is about thirty years younger. My third daughter—I have seven, you know—Isabel is her name, she and Carlos like each other. Since I like Carlos, too, I have not interfered, except to tell Carlos to respect her, that if he didn’t I would cut—” He glanced over at Natalie, cleared his throat.

Davis said smoothly, “Sir, did Carlos behave differently yesterday?”

“He was more quiet than usual. But he is usually quiet. His cell rang about noontime. He said it was his mother and she needed him to run an errand for her. Then, when he didn’t come this morning, I called him, and his phone went to voice mail. I called Carlos’s mother, and she told me she hadn’t seen him since she had served his dinner last night.”

Mr. Sallivar looked around, his face drawn and worried. “Please, tell me, what has happened.”

Davis said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know where he is or if he’s hurt.”

Mr. Sallivar said slowly, “That phone call, it wasn’t from his mother, was it?”

“I’ll find out, sir. Could you please give us his mother’s address?”

Once Mr. Sallivar had left, Davis said, “I’m off to see Mrs. Acosta. You two”—he pointed to Perry and Natalie—“stay here.”

“Spoken like the emperor of the universe,” Perry said. “You’re not going to his house without me.”

He opened his mouth, but she was faster. She raised her finger, wagged. “No barking. Heel,” and she walked past him to the front door.

He followed her out, watched her open the front door of his Jeep and climb in. Well, why not let her come along? It would be easier to get the damned Kimber away from her and safe in his pocket.

Gracias Madre Restaurant
Seven Corners, Virginia

Thursday, early afternoon

Davis and Perry were eating tacos and shoveling in chips at Gracias Madre after they’d left Mrs. Acosta’s home a few blocks away in a heavily Salvadoran neighborhood. Perry eyed the chip basket, sighed, and folded her hands over her stomach. She looked him straight in the eye. “Now that you’ve blasted my ears with that insane ‘Time Bomb,’ stuffed your face with fish tacos, and crowed about leaving me in the car at Mrs. Acosta’s house, it’s time to tell me what you found out. Don’t deny it, I could tell from the wiped-clean expression on your face when you got back. You found out something. Spill it, Davis.”