“Yo,” Ema said. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”

The man with the aviator sunglasses stared for a moment. Then he said, “You’re trespassing.”

His voice was flat, lifeless.

“Right, sorry about that,” she said. “See, I was going around the neighborhood, and I was about to knock on your front door when I heard your car, so I figured, what the heck, I’d make it easier on you and come around back.”

She tried to smile at him. He didn’t seem pleased. Ema kept talking.

“Now, our most popular cookie is still the Thin Mint, but we recently introduced a new flavor, the Dulce de Leche, though I think they’re too sweet, and if you’re watching your calories-I know, it doesn’t look like I do, am I right?-you can try our new Sugar-Free Chocolate Chip.”

The man just stared at her.

“Or we still sell the Samoas, the Peanut Butter Sandwiches, the Shortbreads and the Tagalongs. I don’t want to pressure sell, but all your neighbors have placed orders. The Asseltas next door? They bought thirty boxes, and with a little help I can land first place in my troop and win a hundred-dollar gift certificate to the American Girl doll store-”

“Go.”

“I’m sorry. Did you say-”

“Go.” There was no give in his voice. “Now.”

“Right, okay.” Ema raised her hands in mock surrender and quickly moved out of sight. I fell back for a second, relieved. I was also impressed as all get-out. Talk about quick thinking. Ema was safe. Now it was my turn. I took another glance out the window. The man with the shaved head stood by the garage door. He opened it, and whoever was driving pulled the car in. The man with the shaved head kept doing the head pivot, like a surveillance camera, and then suddenly he jerked to the left and zeroed right in on me.