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McCarthy gestures toward the chair opposite his desk, and Maddy sits, pushing hard to summon a smile and make herself agreeable.

“I was curious when they told me that a ‘good friend’ was out at reception asking for me,” McCarthy says. “Icertainly wasn’t expecting you. Maybe one of the girls from the police academy, or some chick I met at one of the local watering holes… but never you.”

“I’m glad it was such a pleasant surprise,” Maddy says. The fact that he refers to full-grown women asgirlsandchicksmakes it hard for her to keep her smile in place, but she manages.

McCarthy stands and moves to the front of the desk, directly opposite where Maddy’s sitting. Then he sits on the edge of the desk, way too close, and rubs his hands firmly up and down on his thighs. Maddy’s smile remains in place, but she nearly has to summon her mind powers to make it happen.

“Look, I know I’m jumping into the deep end here. But I need your help,” Maddy says.

“You need my help?” McCarthy says, with a laugh that is just short of a snicker. “Girlie, you might not have noticed, but I’m not sure you and I are playing on the same team.”

“I don’t think we have to be on the same team to share the same concerns. I’ve seen you at work; I know you want to keep the kids at the 59th Street Bridge safe.”

Maddy knows nothing of the kind. In fact, she’s certain McCarthy takes kickbacks from Carla Spector in order to keep her business running, therefore putting the girls directly in harm’s way.

But she remembers what Belinda told her—some of her male clients have actually convinced themselves they’rehelping her. Maddy has no doubt that McCarthy has cast himself as a hero in his own head: the Patron Saint of Lost Girls.

He makes sure they get in the right cars and get the drops into the right hands so that they can get their paychecks. And she’s right.

“Of course I want them to be safe,” McCarthy says. “Why do you think I let them play that tape of me at Belinda’s trial? She’s in no danger now, is she?”

Maddy doubts that McCarthyletthe prosecutor do anything, but she continues.

“You probably already know this,” Maddy says, not above stroking his ego. “But quite a few of the young people from that group have gone missing.”

“And?” McCarthy says.

“And I’m going to bust my ass trying to find them.” She lets the insinuation that he should be doing the same thing hang in the air between them.

McCarthy stops smiling. The brightness disappears from his face. Maddy removes a small folded piece of paper from her pocket.

“This is the license plate number of a car that’s been trolling for kids. It’s a New Hampshire plate, number LT4—”

At that moment Robert McCarthy stands up from his desk and holds out his arm, flashing a stop signal with his hand.

“Maddy, let me tell you something,” he says.

“Yes?” Maddy asks.

“Get the hell out of here!” he yells.

Maddy’s head snaps backward a tiny bit. Damnit, she promised herself she wouldn’t let him intimidate her.

“Listen, Detective,” she tries again, but he quickly rounds the desk, almost knocking her chair over. He grabs her by the arm and pulls her up, propelling her toward the door. He snarls one last thing in her ear before he tosses her into the hallway.

“Get out of here before I kill you.”

CHAPTER 71

TWO STORIES HAVE taken over the headlines in all news media.

First, of course, is the scourge of the Newbola virus. What was once only an unverifiable prediction is now exhaustively reported: the hideous illness has worked its way across the entire world. No country has gone untouched. No city is free of plague.

Grandma Jessica shares that in our absence she received a package from Dr. DaSilva that contains a trial vaccination for Newbola. The good doctor sent along a note saying that there were no guarantees it would be effective, but it was the best chance she could offer us, as soldiers on the front lines against the spreading illness.

Second, I am sorry to say, is this: When the media reports on the spread of the virus, they invariably mention my team and me and continue to spread the enormous lie that we are leaders of a conspiracy to destroy the world.

Communication networks like TMZ and Fox Newscan’t get enough. Priests and preachers sermonize about the devils among us. The ERs of almost every hospital on earth are packed with patients who are fearful that their colds and flus are early forms of the illness.