Boston, Massachusetts, Thursday…

"I'm not connecting you to a homicide. Just consulting with you. I apologize for calling you at home. I called your former place of work and they said that you retired."
"That's the official spiel. I never signed their damn papers. The DHS has accused me of being a Greek terrorist, so I lost my clearance. No clearance, no work, at least in my discipline. Of course, they then had to show who's in charge by making me stay overnight in one of their fucking prisons."

The mention of the DHS caused Chris to stir uneasily in his chair. His cop's sixth sense was working overtime again.

"Any chance that an agent named Mary Beth Grogan was involved?" he asked just for shits and giggles. He was surprised at the answer.

"I don't know about Dalton Biomedicine but she was the one who warned a lawyer friend not to take my case. Threatened to disbar him. She's Hank Johnson's personal aid. And I had a visit from another bunch of agents who confiscated my computers and some other things, and, when I objected, they made me spend the night in jail." There was suddenly silence as the woman in the tiny screen of the cell phone pursed her lips and glared out at him. "Hey, Detective Tanner, I'm giving out a lot of information here. I don't know you are who you say you are. Why don't you show me your badge? And what's your consulting question?"