He wasn’t a by-the-book guy in the sense that Marty was; he was by nature careful and thoughtful. He made sure he knew what he was doing, and when he chose a direction and moved forward, he always had a reason. This was crazy. He wasn’t a therapist. Or a bodyguard. And yet he had wedged himself into the middle of a nasty divorce. But what the hell else could he have done? As Kieran had said, any decent person would lend a hand. He was glad that she was along for the ride, too. He was still inexplicably on edge about her after watching the surveillance tapes from the subway. As he drove, he couldn’t stop keeping an eye out for people in hoodies. Unsurprisingly, there were lots of them. Julie’s apartment wasn’t too far over from Kieran’s place. She and Gary had the basement of a beautiful old brownstone.
