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When he rings the bell at the Monger-Rackman residence, Wendy, the unlikelytroisof the unthinkableménage à trois, opens the door in a state of breathless excitement. “Goodness gracious, here you are already, but that’s okay, don’t worry yourself about a thing, I just got it all collected, so come in, come in.”

She is the furthest thing from a longshoreman, and though she is not the kind of beauty to appear on the covers of magazines that undertake to arouse young men, she is a delight to the eye—slender, with masses of curly auburn hair, flawless skin, a sprinkling of freckles, and limpid blue eyes. She’s much better than beautiful; great beauties are often cool and unapproachable; Wendy is cute enough to be an anime character. Regis lovesJapanese anime because all the characters are cute. It’s getting harder all the time to find cute in the real world. Having been awakened to perform the task at hand, Wendy is adorable in blue pajamas with pink bunnies all over them.

In Regis’s view, she’s too cute to be hauling around heavy backpacks, but she insists on carrying her share of gear and loading it into his SUV, and she proves to be stronger than she looks. As Regis closes the liftgate, Wendy says, “What’s this about?”

“A little hike, a day or two.”

“Put together on the spur of the moment, in the dead of night, it doesn’t feel recreational. Spin me another story.”

“I’m just doing what I’m told. I can’t say what it’s about.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

She crosses her arms on her chest, just like some anime girls do when they won’t back down from a threat. “I’m a mother to those boys, and I’m determined to set them straight.”

Baffled by that statement, he says, “Mother?”

“Oh, yes, I’m younger than they are, but they very much need a mom, even if just an honorary one. Our mother, rest her soul, was a mess, a slattern and an alley cat. They need guidance, those boys, and I mean to set them right.”

“Slattern?”

“Look it up, Mr. Jersey.”

“I know what it means. I’ve just never heard anyone use the word. The thing is, I was told ...”

“You were told what?”

“You were their wife.”

“Must’ve been that wicked Galen Vector told you that. The man’s soul is as dark as his sunglasses. I am their half sister. I allowthem to live here rent-free, and I cook for them. It is my life goal to lead them to the light.”

“How’s that working out?”

“No one likes a snarky man, Mr. Jersey. I know my brothers are lazy boys who like the easy money of the criminal life. However, I’m winning their hearts and minds. I’ll pry them away from Galen Vector and get them on a righteous path. In only a year, I’ve enjoyed much success with them. They take baby steps. The poor dears can’t be made clean overnight. At least they don’t murder people anymore.”

Even here in the darkness of the driveway, with only the moon and the stars and the wan outspill from the porch lamps, Wendy’s eyes are a resplendent and inexplicable blue, as if lit from within. Regis has never met anyone with a stare as direct and searching as hers. He realizes he’s stood in silence for more than a few seconds, and then he belatedly comprehends what she said. “How do you know they don’t? Don’t murder people anymore.”

“I’ve turned them on their axes just far enough that they can lie to the world but not to me. They can’t lie to me anymore than you can, Mr. Jersey.”

He hears himself say, “Oh, I’m a very good liar, Wendy.”

She smiles. “You see?”

Surprised by his admission, he is astonished by what issues from him next. “No, it isn’t a recreational hike. It’s a search. They’re tracking someone. Pursuing her. A woman named Vida. She was the fiancée of José Nochelobo.” He bites his tongue. He literally bites it to silence himself, though not hard enough to draw blood.

“My brothers did not kill Mr. Nochelobo.”

His tongue frees itself from his teeth. “No.”

“Do you know who did, Mr. Jersey?”

“Not his name. Just that he was a professional assassin and a foreign national who came here directly from jobs in Syria and the Ukraine.” Alarmed to hear himself making these revelations, Regis says, “Thank you, pleased to meet you, have a nice day,” and hurries away from her, alongside the SUV.

As Regis yanks open the driver’s door, Wendy puts a hand on his shoulder, and he pivots toward her with no less fright than if she had been a disfigured mutant sociopath with a chain saw.

“When you see my brothers,” she says, “remind them of their promise to me.”