“You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m never kind.”
“Of course not. What’s bothering you?”
He didn’t ask what I was talking about. He was aware I knew him too well. “I get the feeling we’re being watched.”
Unobtrusively, I looked up and down the portion of Lexington Avenue where we stood.
“I don’t see anyone.”
“Neither do I.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Good idea.”
A cab pulled up to the curb and I got our carryons into the trunk. Mark gave a final glance around, then got into the cab.
“Where to, mac?” the driver asked around a wad of chewing gum.
“Take us to LaGuardia.”
***
We arrived back in DC a couple of hours later. Ben-David whistled during the entire flight home, and Mark and I exchanged glances more than once.
“I swear to God, I’m gonna shoot him,” Mark finally muttered, then raised his voice. “Sounds like something’s made you happy.”
Ben-David glanced over his shoulder, his expression once again wiped clear of anything remotely like a smile.