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Andy glanced in his rearview. There was no sign of the red Nissan. “Did we lose him?”

“For now.”

For now. Right. Because Robie knew exactly where they were headed.

The traffic lights turned green.

“Which direction?” Andy asked.

“We’ll stay off the highway and head for the airport.”

“The airport?” Andy repeated doubtfully.

“Unless you have another idea? We’ll drop the car off, grab the Land Rover, and then go talk to the State Police.”

“That’s… That’ll work.”

The State Police? Right. Because Quinn didn’t trust Safehaven PD. Because he still thought Chief Millard might be involved with a gang of international jewel thieves. Maybe Millard was. At this point, Andy could just about believe anything.

Quinn added, “Presumably State will bring in the FBI.”

“Presumably.”

“After we’ve taken care of that, I’ll file my report.”

“Then what happens?”

“Then my people will share their intel with Interpol and AIVD.”

“Of course.” Who were Quinn’s people? What the hell was AIVD? Did it matter? Probably not.

“But this is going to fall under the Bureau’s jurisdiction.”

“Sure.”

Quinn continued to detail the details, and Andy kept making encouraging noises, but he was no longer listening. He couldn’t think past the fact that Paul Robie was still on the loose. Sirius—who had given Andy forty-eight hours (which were now up) to find that jewel-stuffed snow globe—was still on the loose. Quinn was acting like Mission Accomplished, but Uncle C. was still in the hospital. Marcus was still dead. The Whittakers—

“Hey,” Quinn said.

Andy glanced his way.

“You did great. You know that, right?”

“Honestly? It’s the least of my worries.” Andy couldn’t help that edge of asperity in his voice. “We could have died today, Quinn. Hell, we could have died Sunday night if we’d gone back to my place instead of yours. I’ve lost count of howmany close calls we’ve had. And even if we don’t end up dead, we couldstillwind up in jail.”

“It’s a lot, I know. But it’s almost over.”

“Isit?”

“Yes.”

“How do you figure that?”

“We now understand the basics of their operation. There’ll be the usual territorial pissing match, but the feds will take it from here.”

“But we don’t know where the snow globe is. We don’t know how it ended up in Uncle C.’s shop. We don’t know—”

“True. There are a few details to be verified. A couple of loose ends. Yes. But I’ve fulfilled my obligation to my former boss, andyoudon’t have an obligation to anyone but yourself.”