"Matt?"

"What?" He stopped chewing.

"Have you been taking pictures again?"

"Just trees and stuff."

"Uh-huh."

"I learned my lesson, Mom:" Matt looked at Bonnie and swallowed hard. "Ned told me I could go to jail."

Bonnie gasped. "He didn't! "

"Yep. Juvenile detention for trespassing," Matt said.

"And he oughta know," Justin said between bites. "He's the police chief."

"He's retired, honey," Bonnie corrected him.

"But he still knows all about jail and how people get fried like bacon in the electric chair, right?"

Charlotte leaned toward her son. "I don't want to have to take away your spy kit, Matthew."

"I hear you."

"Excellent fig bars, Mrs. Tasker."

Justin Bettmyer smiled at Charlotte, and though she was aware he was playing the decoy for Matt, she couldn't help but be charmed. The sandy-haired, brown-eyed kid was a sweetheart-no matter who his parents were,

"You sticking around for dinner tonight, Justin?" she asked.

He took a swig of tea. "What are you having?"

"Vegetable lasagna."

"Awesome."

***

Joe dropped the duffel bag on the white Mexican tile and let his eyes adjust to the cool dimness of the space. It was all very pale and sleek, and the powers that be had done a pretty good job picking out stuff to go in it, he supposed- not that he had any particular interest in interior design.

He walked through the kitchen, running a finger along the cold white surface of the kitchen counter. He flipped the switch to the family room ceiling fan, then bent down to check out the gas fireplace. The idea that he'd be here long enough to watch spring and summer pass into fireplace season made him sigh.