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create—fabricate—scenarios, such as rescue scenarios. It’s a psychological defense mechanism, a means of coping with the unbearable. Perhaps your rescue scenario is representative of angels pulling Tyler free from being consumed by the fire, to give you solace.”
    â€œNo, no.”
    Kendrix nodded at Darnell.
    â€œEmma,” Darnell said, “you were thrown from your vehicle. Joe was partially ejected, then thrown clear by the explosion and fire. But Tyler—” Darnell glanced at the others, and Kendrix urged him on “—Tyler remained inside.”
    She started shaking her head.
    â€œWhy are you doing this, Darnell? Why, Lyle? You knew Joe. You’re both fathers. I know your children. I know Joe died. I felt him die. But why are you lying to me about Tyler?”
    â€œNo one is lying,” Lyle said. “This is the hardest thing I’m going to have to tell you. The fire was intense.” Lyle paused. “It consumed Tyler. The heat was so ferocious he was incinerated. I’m so sorry, there was nothing left.”
    â€œNothing left?”
    Lyle brought out a small brown paper bag from his pocket and placed it in her lap.
    â€œThis is all we recovered.”
    Emma stared at it.
    It weighed nothing. It was a new lunch bag. She wondered if Lyle brought it from his home. When she opened it, it crackled, exhaling a whiff of smoky air as she peered inside at two small shoes.
    Tyler’s little sneakers.
    Charred.
    â€œIt’s proof, Emma,” Kendrix said.
    She touched them to her face, and her tears streaked over the toes, making tracks along the scorched canvas.

CHAPTER 12
    Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
    F rank Archer was pacing with his cell phone against his ear when the Rio police returned Gannon to the bureau.
    â€œHe just walked in. We’ll set it up in two minutes.” Archer turned to Luiz. “Go ahead, set up the call.”
    Archer tossed his cell phone on his desk and put his hands on his hips.
    â€œDammit, Gannon. What the hell’s going on?”
    â€œIt was a misunderstanding with police.”
    â€œThey arrested you.”
    â€œThey wanted to talk to me—it’s been cleared up.”
    â€œGood. Do you have your passport? Luiz is booking you a flight back to New York. George agrees, having you down here is a liability.”
    â€œWait, Frank—I think I’ve got some leads.”
    â€œWhat leads?”
    â€œIt might not be a narco hit. There’s a disgruntled employee who made threats, and there’s also a chance the bombing is linked to financial troubles the café was having. And there’s the mystery woman Gabriela was supposed to meet.”
    â€œWe’ve been through those theories. Our contacts say this was an act of narco terrorism.”
    â€œHave you confirmed Gabriela’s source?”
    â€œGabriela’s anonymous source never showed. Accordingto what Porter and Sally got from their police contacts, Gabriela was alone at her table.”
    â€œThe sense I get is that the lead investigators have not exactly confirmed that Gabriela was alone. They’ve got conflicting reports that a woman may have been with her.”
    â€œAre you kidding me, Jack? Collectively, Hugh, Sally and I have worked in South America covering coups, earthquakes, drug wars, for nearly twenty years. You’ve been here about twenty minutes and you’re going to tell me you have better inside police information?”
    â€œCall’s ready,” Luiz said from the meeting table nearby where he’d entered the required codes on the telephone console for an urgent WPA teleconference call. The phone’s speaker hissed with static.
    George Wilson was on his cell phone at São Paulo’s airport about to make his connection for Marcelo’s service. Melody Lyon was in Miami for Gabriela’s funeral and was calling from her hotel room.
    â€œIt’s Luiz in Rio. Everybody’s