“What agency?”

“The notification came through Homeland. Which as you know doesn’t necessarily mean it originated there. Homeland can be a communication conduit for almost any other government agency, even those it doesn’t actively manage, like FBI and CIA.”

“And this tipster specified a local motel where Shane might be conveniently located?”

Tolliver is decidedly not amused. “Tell me that wasn’t you torching the vehicle.”

“It wasn’t me,” Jack says, pleased that he can be honest, at least in a technical sense. “Glenn, you should know I did have contact with your suspect later on in the day, before he was apprehended.”

“Apprehended? Like hell. I’d know if we had him in custody.”

“Not by you. Apprehended by others. Guys in black ski masks, very professional.”

The captain of detectives looks startled, then quickly regains some of his humor, shaking his head ruefully. “What do you know, they got there first. I can tell this is going to be a good one. What’s your interest? I mean besides the fact that you and the suspect were Academy sweethearts.”

“Mostly that. You know about his wife and kid?”

“I read the file, Jack.”

“Well, some of us keep an eye on Shane, help out when we can. He’s one of the good guys.”

“Yeah? If he’s so good what does that make the victim? One of the bad guys? And if we didn’t put your pal in cuffs, exactly who did?”

Jack, who has learned to balance his boss’s orders with the practicalities of maintaining access to various law enforcement agencies, decides to tell the captain of detectives what happened, mostly. He does so succinctly and without elaboration, as if writing a police report. By the time he gets to the end, Tolliver is openly gaping.

“Holy shit, a black helicopter? For real?”