"Do not, under any circumstances, allow anyone to leave the building who is not already in this lobby. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Frank picked up the phone.
The other guard, a younger man named Pell, was already moving toward the side corridor.
Harlan exhaled once, slowly, and turned to look at Isaiah. The boy was watching him with the same steady eyes. Harlan knelt down on one knee so that his eyes were level with the boy's. He set the leather portfolio on the floor beside him; he did not care in this moment what it cost or what was inside it.
"Isaiah," he said quietly, "I need you to tell me everything you remember from the beginning, from the first thing that made you notice."
The boy nodded once. He took a small breath, the kind a child takes when he has been waiting to be asked a question and has rehearsed his answer in case he ever was.
"My mom got a text this morning, sir, before the sun was up. It was on her phone on the kitchen counter, and I saw it when I was getting cereal. It was from Mr. Coleman. He said his car wouldn't start and he was sorry, but he had asked the company to send Tomas instead. He said Tomas was a friend of his and that you would be in good hands. He said he would call my mom later in the day to check in."
Isaiah paused. "But then twenty minutes later, my mom's phone buzzed again. I saw her read it. She got real quiet. She put the phone in her pocket, and she didn't tell me what it said. She just said we had to leave for the bus early. She walked me all the way to the building this morning instead of letting me ride alone, which she never does on Wednesdays because she has to be on the 38th floor by 7:00."
Harlan listened without interrupting.
"When we got to the corner," Isaiah said, "my mom looked at the front of the building for a long time before she crossed the street. She kept her hand on my shoulder. She told me to go inside through the side entrance and find her later. And then I saw the car. And I saw the man in it. And I knew right away it wasn't Mr. Coleman, because Mr. Coleman is not a young man, sir, and the man in the car was young. And when I went to the doorman to ask him about it, the doorman said the driver had introduced himself as Patrick from Hadley. And I thought, that's not right either, because the text said the driver's name was Tomas."
Harlan felt something tighten very slowly behind his ribs. "Where is your mother now, Isaiah?"
"I don't know, sir. She said she would meet me in the lobby, but she hasn't come down. I waited fifteen minutes by the elevators. Then I came outside because I saw your car pull up. I thought, if my mom isn't here, somebody has to tell him."