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She's covering it up because she doesn't want me to know she cares.

“Fine,” I say. I bring it to my mouth and suck the blood off. She watches my mouth work, swallows hard, and looks away just as we slow in front of the Boston Plaza Hotel.

Glittering glass and polished stone rise above us in the dusk. It's amazing how some of the world's worst criminals just walk the streets with impunity.

Then we're stepping out of the car into the last of the evening light, in the open, where our enemies could find us, toeing the line between maintaining cover and hoping they try.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Job's been taken care of.

Good. The body's gone.

My phone vibrates again with a text from Seamus.

Seamus

There's a little blip in our plan.

I frown at my phone as Valentina holds my elbow.

I wait for the second message and fire off another.

Well, who or what the fuck is it?

There's no response. My message hangs undelivered.

Christ. No cell service.

“Right this way, sir.” We're swept up in a rush of silk and ties, expensive colognes, and clicking heels. Who do I know here? I need to get in touch with Seamus.

She holds her head high and walks beside me, hand in hand.

“Welcome, sir.” Someone at the desk checks us in. “Name, please?”

“Torin McCarthy.” I say it in a voice that's not too soft and not too loud. Nobody looks my way.

“You, ma'am?”

Valentina's eyes go wide, and for a moment I think she's already forgotten her cover before she blinks and recovers. “Theresa Cogliera.”

He gives her a curious look. “From Italy?”

“Yes, yes,” she says, with a flawless Italian accent.

“Have a good evening.” He checks us off the guest list.

We sit at a table in the corner overlooking the waterfront. Cargo ships drag slowly across the water. We order off an elaborate linen menu.

“Those appetizers do look decent. Free champagne too.” She takes a long flute and drinks thirstily. The waiter offers me one, but I shake my head. I need to stay sober as fuck. I consider telling her I don't want her drinking either, but maybe it will give her some courage, take the edge off.

“See anyone you recognize?” I say quietly into my glass.

“I do,” she whispers. “Several. You?”

I hand my phone to her. “Type it out.”

Her fingers fly over the keys.