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himself a fancy lawyer, got his sentence reduced on some technicality or other.”
    A low murmur went around the table. Nobody liked the idea of a perp getting out early because somebody had slipped up.
    “Anyway, they’re looking into Joey for us, but the immediate word was that he’s been doing an impression of a model citizen, working at his parents’ meat market and reporting to his parole officer on schedule.”
    Phillips made a complicated sound that expressed doubt at Joey’s turnaround and skepticism at his apparent alibi.
    “Keep after them. The two we’ve got on ice were low-level muscle. Maybe they were doing Joey a favor.”
    He looked around the table. “Anything else need following up on?”
    Micah didn’t particularly want to bring up this subject, but better it come from him than from someone else.
    “Yes. How did the shooters locate Jade Summers? And why did they bother coming after her?”
    “I don’t know why, but I can guess how.” Mac sounded pleased that he had something to contribute. “I was going over the report from Ruby Maxwell’s apartment. Inside her Bible they found a newspaper photo and article, announcing the appointment of Jade Summers as head of the White Rock Library.”
    “So they saw that when they tossed the apartment,”
    Phillips said. “Maybe weren’t sure they had the right twin, and went after the other one.”
    That meant he hadn’t led them to her door, at least.
    “That must be it,” he said. “There’s still the matter of how they found Ruby.”
    Mac shook his head. “We could look ’til we’re old and gray and never know that for sure, but I’m betting she was in touch with one of her old friends. We all know that’s usually what happens.”
    “We’ll keep following up on it, in any event.” Phillips sounded ready to be finished. “What are you working on right now, McGraw?”
    “I’m still checking out Jade Summers’s background.”
    Phillips closed the folder in front of him. “Have Mac help you with that. I want you to call your brother.”
    That jolted him to attention. “Why my brother?”
    “He’s the big expert on organized crime, isn’t he?
    That memo he sent about the Martino family—well, on the surface it seems unlikely there’s any connection, but he should be consulted. You call him.” Phillips smiled thinly. “Do you good to stay in touch with your kin. All right, people, let’s get moving on this.”
    Chairs scraped, fragments of conversation floated past his attention. He didn’t heed them. Call your brother. Okay, no reason not to give Jackson a call. It had been a while. Usually his information about his half brother was funneled through his mother. Jackson always maintained a good relationship with his stepmother. Back at his desk he checked through the information that had come through in the past hour, looked again at the file on Ruby, and finally faced the fact that he was putting off the inevitable. And that he was probably being unfair to his brother. Just because Jackson’s status with the Bureau was nearly legendary, it didn’t follow that he looked down on his little brother’s efforts. It just felt that way. Between his father’s reputation and his big brother’s, there was way too much to live up to in the McGraw family.
    He reached for the phone and called the Bureau’s Chicago field office.
    Special Agent McGraw was in. “Micah.” Jackson’s deep voice was crisp, as always when he was on duty, which was most of the time. “What’s with a Mob hit in the wilds of Montana?”
    “You know about that already.” He wasn’t surprised. Jackson kept himself informed about anything having to do with organized crime.
    “I know about Ruby Maxwell. I didn’t know you were involved, though.”
    “I’d settled her in Witness Protection. I was her contact.” He didn’t need to say more. Jackson would fill in the blanks.
    “Rough. I hear you caught the shooters already.”
    Not me, he wanted to say.