“Think he’ll take the bait?” Jameson asked. Grayson brushed an imaginary speck of lint off his suit. “What do you take me for, an amateur?” Sure enough, Nash followed. Did the four of them have to pounce the moment he came out the door? Strictly speaking, no. Did they have to overpower him, duct-tape him, blindfold him, and hoist him into the air? Also no. But did they?
