I escaped, met you, and you drove me to Willow Lake, where I was physically attacked by a 300-pound redneck who was suddenly murdered five feet from me by a terrorist hired by the mob to blow me up. He did, in fact, blow up the entire neighborhood, but as you can see, I managed to escape.”

“And here you are.”

“Yes. So I think I can handle a bureaucrat like Donovan Creed, who talks like a cartoon character.”

“Creed’s no bureaucrat. And the cartoon voice is an imitation.”

“Of what?”

“It’s a quirk. Whenever he tries to imitate someone, or disguise his voice, it comes out like Sponge Bob.”

“You’re joking.”

“Like I say, it’s a quirk.”

“And I’m supposed to fear this man?”

“Beyond all others.”

She thinks a minute. “Is it your opinion he could take down Bobby Dee?”

“Without batting an eye.”

“You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

Jill grins, grabs her phone, presses the redial button.

“How’s Frank treating you?” Creed says.

“No complaints. But it dawns on me I never told you my second demand.”

“Then tell me something else I don’t already know.”

“My maiden name’s Jill Whittaker. But don’t waste your time writing that down.”

“Too late. Thanks, Jill.”

“My married name is DiPiese. I’m Bobby’s wife.”

“Holy shit!”

Jill smiles. “Thought you might like that.”

Frank doesn’t. His eyes have gone huge.

Creed says, “The folks at Willow Lake will be surprised. They thought Jack was your fiancée.”

“That was our cover story, so I could stay at his place.”

“What do I owe you for the information?”

“I want you to kill Bobby.”

“When?”

She laughs. “I love that. You said when, not why. We’re going to get along swimmingly, Donovan. Not that it matters, but are you good-looking?”

“Yeah, but not by choice. My face has been reconstructed.”

“You don’t strike me as a vain man.”

“I won’t strike you at all, if you behave.”

“How good do I have to be?”

“Don’t flirt. I’m spoken for.”

“Pity.”

“I’m still 30 minutes out, but I’ve called a sketch artist who should be there in a few minutes. I’d like you to start without me. That way we can get the terrorist’s face in front of the public within the hour.”

“That’s not going to happen. Frank and I will be gone by then.”

Creed pauses a moment, then says. “You really must be good in bed! I’m impressed. On the other hand, I’m deeply disappointed in Frank. Have a safe trip, Jill.”

“I must say, you’re being an awfully good sport about this.”

“I’m a realist. I’m only sorry you’ll miss the reunion.”

“Which reunion is that?”

“I found Jack Tallow. I thought you might want to see him.”

Jill closes her eyes. “If you found him this quickly he’s obviously dead.”

“Actually, he’s alive and in deep shit with the Baton Rouge police department.”

“You’ve clearly found the wrong Jack Tallow.”

“You think? Let’s review. The Jack Tallow I’ve found has no vocal cords and is sporting savage, near-fatal hog bites.”

“Thank God!” she says.

“You’re happy about the hog bites?”

“Yes, of course. It means he escaped.