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you know.”

CHAPTER 13
    AN HOUR AFTER meeting with Captain Lawrence in his office, Cindy was sitting in the passenger seat beside him in a cruiser, parked on the same section of dirt road beyond the green house where she had parked earlier this morning.
    The captain’s terms had been good enough for Cindy.
    She could ride to the location in his car. She had to stay back from any action. Anything he said wasoff the record unless he said she could quote him. She couldn’t take pictures. She couldn’t hotdog or in any way go off on her own, or the deal was null and void.
    In exchange for giving him the lead, Captain Lawrence would give Cindy credit for the tip, and he’d give her whatever advantage he could in protecting her exclusive on the story.
    It was a great deal, and Cindy liked the captain andfelt sure that he wouldn’t go back on his word.
    And the operation was seriously in play.
    Minutes after she and the captain were in place, a second cruiser had blocked off the long dirt drive where it branched off toward the Fish house. There was a boat on the lake and two teams of armed men were hidden in the woods.
    Now a white van marked Z IMMER C ONSTRUCTION came up the drive to the house.The radio in the captain’s car came to life, Sergeant Bob Morrison reporting that he and Officer Barton were going to go to the door.
    Captain Lawrence told them to go ahead, then said to Cindy, “I looked you up. That story you wrote about Randy Fish. I read it at the time. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize your name.”
    “That happens. Like all the time.”
    “It was good story, and you wrote it well.I keep going back in my mind, trying to picture Randy, asking myself when he turned into such a monster. He was brought up in a good family. Bill Fish was a dentist—”
    The radio crackled and Lawrence grabbed the mic and said, “Morrison, what’s happening?”
    “No answer to the doorbell, Captain. We’re going to take a look around back.”
    The two cops dressed as construction workers disappeared fromview. A couple minutes later, they returned to the front door of the house. The one named Morrison cupped his hands at the front window and looked in.
    After that, Morrison gestured to his partner, who alsopeered through the glass. Lawrence opened the mic and said, “What have you got, Morrison?”
    “The house appears wired, Captain. Booby-trapped.”
    “Get out of there now,” said Lawrence.
    Cindylistened to the rapid-fire radio communications between the captain, the men in the woods, and the undercover cops, who got back into their construction van.
    Cindy’s mind was on fire. She saw how this story was going to start: right here, with Morrison telling Lawrence that the house was rigged to blow. This was a beautiful lede. A movie-style fricking opening.
    Lawrence released the brake andheaded the car south toward the main road with the construction van following right behind.
    He said, “Cindy, we have to talk.”
    “Absolutely,” she said to the captain. “The house is wired. Booby-trapped. This means that she set up explosives so that if the law came in through the door—”
    “I
mean
,” said Captain Lawrence, “we have to talk about our deal. If Morales is staying here, we can’t leton. She may come back if she thinks her safe house is still
safe
. That’s what we want.
    “Now I have to call the FBI. You can thank me later for keeping you out of
that
. They will not make a deal with you, but you
will
have to give up your source. Count on that.
    “Also, Morales may have had nothing to do with wiring that house. And as I understand journalism, if you can’t verify it, you can’t writeit. Am I right?”
    “You’re right as to the kind of journalism I do.”
    “Okay, then. Bottom line, Cindy,” Lawrence said, turning to her as he negotiated the rutted road. “You cannot write a single word until or unless I say so. Not one single word.”

CHAPTER 14
    MY PHONE RANG on the table next to the bed,