Kat was walking down Henry Street, wondering how long it would be until Jackie’s part of the deal had been fulfilled. People walked past her, disinterested, consumed by their own private dramas.

She was about to be in the same condition to a much greater degree.

“Don’t scream,” Carter said, suddenly behind her, his big, strong hand on her upper arm. “Don’t flinch, don’t even breath. Just keep walking.” She did as she was told, her feet passing one another swiftly beneath her, her eyes dead ahead.

“Carter—”

“Don’t say a word,” Carter said, his own eyes also fixed on the sidewalk ahead of them. “Scream, and you’re dead. Got it?” She just nodded and kept pace, the two moving swiftly to a red corvette parked on the corner. He opened the passenger door, and she allowed him to ease her into the car before closing the door behind her.

He walked around the side of the car and got in behind the wheel. Without a word, he put the key in, turned the engine over, and peeled out onto the street.

“Where are you taking me?” Without taking his eyes off the road, Carter jammed the transmission. Knowing her role in their new scenario, Kat said, “Look, if you’re after the microfilm, I…I don’t have it. I gave it to the police; I don’t have it.”

He looked at her with a wry smile, gunning the engine as he turned onto the street.

“I-I know you think I-I have some information about whatever you’re up to, but I really don’t! I’m just a secretary, that’s all! I don’t know anything.” He offered no answer, pulling over and parking in a nearby space. Carter jockeyed the car back and forth, Kat looking around, eyeing the door handle.

He parked the car and killed the engine. “You’re going to be quiet and you’re going to behave yourself, is that clear?” She nodded. “Any problems from you, even a peep, I’ll gun you down and everyone else in the place, you understand me?” The sudden feeling of fear prevented her from speaking, but he repeated much louder, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes”—she was too quick to answer—“yes, I understand.”

Ten minutes later they were walking down the supermarket aisle, colorful boxes stacked up in seemingly countless numbers: aluminum foil, sandwich bags, waxed paper.

Carter stopped at the stacks of Saran Wrap brand cling wrap. He examined the box, then looked Kat over. He put the box into the handcart she was holding. A little thrill rang through her body as she held out the plastic basket, loading it full of three boxes of cellophane, then five boxes, finally ten.

She cleared her throat. “You don’t think this is gonna make them suspicious?”

Carter smiled. “Tip them off and there’ll be trouble.”

“Kathleen?” Kat and Carter turned to see Ben standing only a few feet away, pushing a shopping cart half-filled with a variety of junk foods, paper plates and bathroom tissues, and other staples of bachelor life.

“Oh, Ben, hi.” She stood in the stiff silence swirling around the three of them. Ben looked at Kat and then at Carter, then back at her. The fact that the two were intimate was obvious, though the nature of their relationship couldn’t have been guessed by him or any objective person.

The handcart filled with ten rolls of Saran Wrap was another thing altogether.

“So, um,” Ben cleared his throat, “who’s your friend here?”

“Ben, this is…” She turned to Carter, who gave her a small shake of his head. “This is…Cole, Cole…Armstrong.”

“I see,” Ben said, looking Carter over and extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Cole.” “Um, Cole, this is a friend of mine, Ben Clark,” she said, trying to get through this painfully awkward encounter as quickly as possible.

“Ben,” was all Carter said.

Ben looked back at the conspicuous amount of cellphone in their handcart, but only cleared his throat again and looked around. “All right, well, I gotta hit the check out,” was all Ben could think to say. “Nice to meet you, Cole,” he added with the worst fake smile she had ever seen. He looked at her to add, “Kat,” with a wink before pushing his cart farther down the aisle.