His guest was in his late forties and underdressed for the surroundings, in a pair of faded jeans and a red T-shirt adorned with the Adidas logo. “Gerry, thanks for popping in,” Wentworth said. “How’s being single again working out for you?” “Not too bad,” Gerry replied. “Thanks to you.” “And the kids?” “They’re getting used to the new arrangement. I got every other weekend.” “Good,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it.” “That why I’m here?” Gerry asked. “To give you an update on my personal circumstances?” “That, too,” Wentworth said. “Although I did want to ask you something.” “Shoot.” “A little bird told me the FBI had some trouble down in Richmond,” he began. Gerry looked up, clearly surprised. “A little bird, hey?” “Is it true?” “Might be,” Gerry said. “You understand of course that I couldn’t possibly confirm a rumor of that nature.” “No, of course not.” “What else did this bird have to say?” Gerry asked.
