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snagged his towel and wiped off his face.
    “I think you’re the only one who uses this room.”
    He slid the towel down to find her now looking at him.
    She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. The shirt and jeans were tight. No place to conceal a weapon. Robie always checked that first, male or female, young or old.
    “You’re here,” he said.
    “Not to work out,” she replied.
    “What then?”
    “Tough day at the office. Just chilling.”
    He looked around the small, ill-lighted room. It smelled of old sweat and mold.
    “Must be nicer places to chill than this,” he said.
    “I didn’t expect to find anyone else here,” she answered.
    “Except me, maybe. From what you said, you knew I used this room.”
    She said, “I just said that because I saw you here tonight. I’ve never seen you down here before, or anyone else, for that matter.”
    He knew the answer but asked, “So, tough day at the office. Where do you work?”
    “The White House.”
    “That’s pretty impressive.”
    “Some days it doesn’t feel that impressive. What about you?”
    “Investments.”
    “Do you work at one of the big firms?”
    “No, I’m on my own. Always have been.”
    Robie draped the towel around his shoulders. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to your chilling.” However, he didn’t really want to leave just yet. Perhaps she sensed this. She rose and said, “I’m Annie. Annie Lambert.”
    “Hello, Annie Lambert.”
    They shook hands. Her fingers were long, supple, and surprisingly strong.
    “You have a name?” she asked.
    “Robie.”
    “First or last?”
    “Last. It’s on the mailbox.”
    “And your first?”
    “Will.”
    “That was harder than it should have been.” She smiled.
    He found himself grinning back. “I’m not the most outgoing guy you’ll ever meet.”
    “But I saw you at the party on the third floor the other night.”
    “It was a little out of character for me. First time I’ve had a mojito in a long time.”
    “Me too.”
    “Maybe we can go out for a drink sometime.” Robie had no idea why that offer had come out of his mouth.
    “Okay,” she said casually. “Sounds good.”
    “Good night,” said Robie. “Have a nice chill.”
    He closed the door behind him and took the elevator back up to his floor.
    He immediately made a phone call. He didn’t really want to do it, but any contact like that had to be reported. Robie didn’t think there was anything to be worried about with Annie Lambert, but the rules were clear. Annie Lambert would be investigated to a greater degree. If anything turned up Robie would be notified and appropriate action would be taken.
    As he sat in his kitchen Robie wondered if he should have made the call at all. He could not look at anything normally ever again. Someone being friendly to him was a potential threat. It had to be reported. A woman “chilling” and saying hello to him had to be called in.
    I live in a world that isn’t remotely normal anymore. If it ever was. But it won’t always be like this. And there’s no agency rule against having a drink with someone.
    So maybe he would. Sometime. He left his building and walked across the street. The high-rise there had a perfect view of his,which was the point. On the fourth floor was an empty apartment. Robie had a key for it. He entered the apartment and went directly to the corner of the front room. Set up there was a surveillance scope that was rated as one of the best in the world. He powered it up and turned its muzzle toward his building. He pushed and pulled on dials, making corrective adjustments until a certain part of his building came into sharp focus.
    His floor, down the hall three doors. The lights were on, the shades raised three-quarters. He waited. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. It was all the same to Robie.
    Annie Lambert’s front door opened and closed. She moved down the hall. He swung the scope in measured movements, following her trek. She stopped at the kitchen,