Jake watched Special Agent Rob Harlow’s eyes narrow as he skimmed through the file Jake had handed him. Harlow looked pretty much the same as when Jake met him working on a sex trafficking case nine years ago. But his office in the new FBI headquarters in Chelsea was a big step up from the old building in downtown Boston that housed the Bureau when Jake had been an agent. Just as well, Jake thought. Coming here didn’t make him feel the awkwardness of returning to his old quarters as an outsider.

“Pretty interesting stuff,” Harlow said. “Some nice photos, too.”

“Thought you’d be interested. The guy’s convenience store is nothing more than a cover for a big time drug operation.”

“Looks like. How’d you get onto this again?”

“It started out as the usual divorce case. My client couldn’t figure out where all her husband’s money went, so she suspected he had something going on the side. Turned out he has not one but two mistresses set up in fancy downtown apartments. Way more than the income from his store can support, so I checked into his business dealings.”

Harlow nodded. “Most convenience stores don’t need offshore accounts.”

“Right. So I started tailing him for a bit. Made some interesting jaunts to Vermont and New Hampshire, meetings with players you know all too well. And you’ll see the dates of those meetings correlate with substantial deposits to his banks in the Cayman Islands.”

Jake felt his phone vibrate and took a look as Harlow continued flipping through the file. A text from Pam.

Had to leave work, there’s a problem. Can you talk?

A problem she’s texting about in the middle of the afternoon? Not like Pam. Something’s wrong.

He held up the phone. “Sorry, something just came in that I need to deal with. Everything’s detailed in the report and those pics’ll give you plenty of backup. Do you need anything else now?”

Harlow shook his head. “No, it looks pretty clear. This asshole’s dealing with some of the major drug distributors in New England. I’ll be happy to take it from here, go do what you have to do. And thanks, Jake.”

“Always happy to help an old pal,” Jake said. He gave a mock salute as he left the office. Then he texted Pam.

At FBI HQ in Chelsea, leaving now. Are you home?

She answered without delay.

Went for a walk. Meet me at Frog Pond.

• • •

The Frog Pond was a focal point for visitors to the Boston Common, the central park in downtown Boston. It took Jake fifteen minutes to get there and find Pam sitting on a bench by the pond. A touristy-looking couple with three toddlers in tow was strolling nearby, a homeless man was lying on a bench, and a guy who looked like a drug dealer was hanging out under a tree. The usual afternoon crowd.

He sat next to Pam and took her hand. She looked pale and drawn, barely managing a welcoming smile. Like her text had sounded.

“I’m sorry to drag you out here in the middle of the afternoon,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad I could get away. What’s happened?”

“DeSilva called me into his office earlier this afternoon. He’s heard rumors that my work can’t be reproduced. He says my tenure case can’t go forward and he’s asked Mary O’Connor to supervise a special in-house repeat of my experiments. It seems crazy, but I don’t have any choice except to go along with it.”

Jake could hear the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry, that must have been an awful meeting. Have you heard about these rumors before?”

“I know some people have had problems, but I’m sure they’re just technical. We just have to be a little patient until more results come in.”

“So why is DeSilva pushing it now?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure, it feels like he’s lost confidence in me and wants to take charge. The good thing is that George and Holly will be doing the experiments, so it should all work without any hitches. But in the meantime, if word of this gets out, everyone will assume something’s wrong.”

Jake squeezed her hand. She needs a boost. Some kind of reassurance that she’ll make it through. “I wish I could help, but it sounds like you’re just going to have to hang tough until this is finished. Once they confirm your results, it’ll be over, right? And whatever the rumors are, you know your work’s good, so it’ll be okay in the end.”

She sighed and leaned against him. “Thanks, Jake. It helps to have you here. You’re right, it’ll be fine once they do the experiment.”

But would it? He wasn’t a scientist, but he knew this wasn’t the way discoveries were normally vetted. Something smelled off. He wished he felt as confident as he was trying to sound.