"Now we’re on the very heavy ins," Emily said smugly. "Sorry the food’s not better, but Arthur and I, we don’t do much cooking in here.... Y’know, they got my place staked out, but it’s eight floors down—and in a rat nest like Oxford Towers, that might as well be in Dallas.... This place is as good a safehouse as anywhere. Arthur’s cool about it—I think he’s a little thrilled by all the hubbub, actually." She grinned. "I’m his mystery woman."