Meldon sighed. “That’s all right. Can I follow you in my car?”

“Yep, but my partner here has to ride with you.”

“Why?”

“Having a highly trained agent riding shotgun for you is never a bad thing, Mr. Meldon.”

“Fine.” Meldon slipped his phone back in his pocket and unlocked the passenger door. Agent Reiger climbed in next to him while Hope walked back to his car. Meldon pulled in behind the other car and they started on their route back to D.C.

“I wish you guys could have come to my office. I just came from town.”

Reiger kept his gaze on the other car. “Can I ask why you’re out this late, sir?”

“As I mentioned, I was at my office, working.”

“Sunday night, this late?”

“It’s not a nine-to-five job. Your partner mentioned phone calls and e-mails. Was he inferring ones that I made or received?”

“Maybe neither.”

“What?” Meldon snapped.

“The Bureau’s intel division gets chatter and scuttlebutt all the time from the dirtbag world. It might be that someone you prosecuted wants payback. And we understand that when you were in private practice in New York you did not leave on the best of terms with some of your, uh, clientele. It could be coming from that sector.”

“But that was a decade ago.”

“The mob has a long memory.”

Meldon suddenly looked fearful. “I want protection for my family if there’s some nut out there gunning for me.”

“We already have a Bucar with two agents stationed outside your house.”

They crossed over the Potomac and into D.C. proper, and a few minutes later neared the WFO. The lead car hung a left down an alley. Meldon pulled in behind it.

“Why this way?”

“They just opened a new underground garage for us to use with a hardened tunnel right into WFO. Quicker this way and under Bureau eyes 24/7. These days who the hell knows who’s watching? Al-Qaeda to the next Timothy McVeigh.”