"Yes, that's where they usually end up," Melody agrees conversationally, not quite understanding he was saying a name, much less a name of hers. The only river in her mind was the Hudson, and the considerable number of bad guys now resting at the bottom of it. "But if you start talking, maybe I'll keep you nice and dry."

If the gun wasn't persuasive enough, then perhaps the press of her chest at his back would have him talking. Either way, neither weapon was going anywhere until she was satisfied.

"Who are you?"