They moved to the back of the trailer. Listened. Faint noises inside. Cinder put her ear to the metal. Mozart.
“What now?” Jackson said.
He drew his SIG. They moved around to the other side. A single door with steps. Jackson moved the door handle slowly. Locked. The music inside stopped. Jackson and Cinder froze. Fifteen seconds. Thirty. Forty-five. The door opened. Grayhair in the doorway.
“Are you DEA?”
“No,” Jackson said.
“What do you want?” Grayhair said.
“Talk.”
“Put your g*n down and come in. Both of you.”
“I think I’ll keep the g*n but promise not to shoot you unless I have to.”
Grayhair waved them in.
“Sit,” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s safe in here. At the moment.”
It was a laboratory, a spare-no-expense laboratory. Three baby blue three-by-two-foot Eppendorf variable-s
