"Good," Agent Williams said, "then we all agree? We have your cooperation?"
"Troy?" his mom said. "You're sure?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Dad?" she asked.
"Yes."
"So, we're in," Troy's mom said.
"Our people are already set up," Agent Williams said. "If you're ready, so are we."
"You just want me to take the ladder and climb the wall?" Troy asked.
"Whatever you did Sunday night," Agent Williams said, "do the same thing this evening."
Troy looked out the window and saw that the shadows had grown deeper still. It was truly dusk; the sun had gone down, and only its memory and a final glow remained in the west.
"Let me make him something to eat first," Troy's mom said, sounding so much like a mom that Troy had to smile.
The agents looked at each other. Bob McDonough held up his hands in surrender, and the three men stood up from the table.
"We'll look for you in about an hour," Agent Williams said as they moved toward the door. "And Troy? If you don't get the opportunity to drop it in or near the zebra couch, don't worry. We might get another chance. The thing we don't want to do is let Luther Tolsky know what we're trying to do. That could drive him so deep into cover that it would ruin all the progress we've made. You understand, right?"
"Yes," Troy said. "Absolutely."
Agent Williams held out the quarter, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Even with a knotted stomach Troy held out his hand, and the agent dropped the coin into his palm.
"Spend it wisely," Agent Williams said.
"Don't worry," Troy said in a whisper. "I will."
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
TROY'S MOM WHIPPED UP macaroni and cheese for him and Gramps, chattering the whole time about the Ritz-Carlton Thanksgiving dinner while Troy and Gramps sat at the table with bottles of Coke, studying their shapes. Troy wasn't all that hungry, but he did his best because his mom was watching. Halfway through the meal, he remembered his football all-star team.
"Will you call Seth and tell him I'm not coming?" Troy asked.
"Maybe you should," his mom said. "No, that's not right. I'll do it. He won't ask questions if I do it."
"It's not like he's even starting me," Troy said.
"Troy," she said, "I spoke with Seth today about that. He said he had to do what he did because you showed up late. If you do what everyone knows you can do, and if you're healthy, you'll start."
"But now I'm missing a practice," Troy said. "Not that I care."
"So let's not think about it," his mom said. "But I will tell him. He's still your coach."
"Seth will understand," Gramps said, "and I bet you get to play in that game anyway."
Gramps held out his bottle to toast. Troy tapped the mouth of his bottle against Gramps's and took a slug of soda before finishing off the macaroni and cheese his mom had spooned onto his plate.
After dinner Troy helped clean up before his mom said, "Okay. So, you ready?"
Troy nodded, accepting the jeans jacket she took out of the coat closet before opening the front door. His mom gave Gramps a worried look and asked, "You sure, Dad?"
"He'll be fine," Gramps said, touching her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I wouldn't let him if I didn't know it. You know that, right?"
"Here," Troy's mom said, ducking back into the kitchen and returning with her cell phone. "Take this, Troy."
"Mom," he said, pointing to the quarter in his pocket, "they can hear everything. I'll be fine."
"Just take it, sweetheart," she said.
The look on her face made him slip the phone into his pocket.
"Well," Troy said, suddenly nervous but forcing a smile, "here I go."
He didn't close the door behind him, and he knew they stood there watching through the screen as he crossed the patch and hoisted the ladder on to his shoulders. He felt their concern as he disappeared into the pinewoods, heading for the railroad tracks and the wall beyond. When he emerged onto the railroad bed, the sky had gone from a pale, dying light to a deep purple bruise. He had to watch carefully where he stepped as he made his way closer to the wall.
It took some effort to get the ladder standing on its end and propped up against the wall, but his sweat dried quickly in the cool, crisp air. The trees crowded in on him with a pitch-black gloom. He put one hand on the cold, ribbed surface of a ladder rung and raised one foot.
The snap of a twig behind him made Troy gasp, jump, and spin around.
A cry got caught in his throat and he choked it back, terrified of making himself known. His fingers searched past his mom's cell phone for the quarter in his pocket. He prayed that the FBI agents were already listening.
"Gramps?" he whispered. "Mom?"
A small breeze sighed in the treetops above. Troy felt the current of panic racing through his veins with hot thoughts about criminal gangsters. His ears strained for more information. Then his body made the decision to run-not home, but up the ladder. He'd get over the wall as quickly as he could.
Troy turned and gripped the rungs, his feet scampering up. He'd nearly reached the top of the wall when he felt a hand rise up from the darkness below and grab his foot.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
TROY KICKED AND THRASHED, but the hand held tight.
"Hey!" came a shout from below.
Troy stopped kicking and said, "Tate?"
"Take it easy," she said in a hissing whisper.
"Are you nuts?" he said, letting go of the ladder rungs and dropping to the ground. He stuck his face into hers so that he could just make out her features in the dark. "You scared the heck out of me."
"Sorry," Tate said in a loud whisper. "I was trying to keep quiet. I saw you go across the tracks with this ladder practically from my house, and I followed you. What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing, Tate?" he asked, whispering himself now. "You've got football practice."
"So do you," she said, poking him in the chest with a finger, her voice still hushed. "I'm just the kicker. We need you if we're going to win this thing on Saturday. When Seth told us you weren't coming to practice, I hopped right out of his truck and told them to go without me."
"Well," Troy said, touching the coin in his pocket, "I can't tell you what I'm doing."
"Okay," Tate said, nodding as if she wasn't surprised. "I'll come with you."
"You can't," he said.
"You look like you're scared," she said. "Your face is as pale as a ghost's."
"I'm not scared, Tate," he said, growling. "Now leave me alone, will you? I've got to do something important, and I can't talk about it, okay?"
Tate stepped back from him, and without whispering at all she asked, "We're still friends, though, right?"
"Of course," he said, letting his head sag before holding it up straight. "We're always friends, Tate. You know that. But I have to go."
"Okay," Tate said, nodding at the wall. "I'm sure it's about your dad."
Tate peered at him through the dark, but Troy said nothing.
"I understand, Troy," she said, sounding a bit sad. "I'll be at my house if you need me. For anything."
"Thank you, Tate," he said, then turned and climbed back up the ladder, pulling it up behind him so that he could use it to climb down the other side.
When he finished lowering it, he turned to say good-bye, but Tate had already disappeared.
"Bye," he said, so softly it was swallowed by the breeze. Then he scrambled down the ladder and set off for G Money's mansion.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
THE SECURITY GUARDS AT the gate to G Money's driveway told him to leave. Troy pointed through the metal bars at his father's orange Porsche and told them he'd already been inside. They went through the same routine with their radios, and the gates buzzed and swung slowly open. One of the guards walked him up the curved drive and passed him off to one of the guards he recognized at the door.