“Easy.”
“Well, how?”
“That’s a professional secret.”
“I suppose you’d like to see me get a first-degree rap?”
“No. Believe it or not, I came to help you.”
Some of the haunted, hunted expression left her eyes. “You’re a brick.”
“You can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too easy to trace you.”
“I didn’t think they’d ever find me — not in a thousand years.”