Her doctor said she should cut back on the caffeine if she ever wanted to get rid of her ulcers. But the smell of coffee—even the crappy stuff from the bakery on the corner—was too much to resist. She tore open the small square on the plastic lid and took a sip.

She was so used to her ulcers at this stage, what would be the point of getting rid of them?

Gordon collapsed into the stiff reception chair beside hers and stared at Deputy Walters" closed office door.

"So." Gordon yawned but talked through it. "Why do you suppose we got the royal summons at 6 a.m. on a Saturday?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Maggie said, watching the steam escape from the coffee cup.

"You're lying." Gordon gestured with his cup and coffee sloshed over onto his brown corduroy pants.

"You are totally lying."

Gordon was the best surveillance tech she'd ever worked with and he was—in certain lighting and on special occasions—vaguely loveable. But not so much this early on a Saturday morning. "What makes you say that?" She took another sip of sugary coffee. She was lying. She did have an idea why they were here. But she wasn't about to share that with Gordon.

"'Cause you always know more than you let on." Gordon shrugged and slumped deeper into his chair.

"When you're not around the guys in bank robbery call you the freaking Cheshire Cat."

"I think I'll take that as a compliment." It was, after all, better than some of the things she'd been called since entering the hallowed halls of Quantico fou