“There you go.” It was so flimsy it could hardly be called a plan. There were a dozen things that could go wrong. But in a situation with no time, no advantages, and no foreknowledge of the setup, it offered a chance to get the innocents out. Catching Evan was secondary to that. Everything was secondary to that.

Besides, Danny reasoned, Evan would be on unfamiliar ground. A construction site at night was a treacherous place. Danny had spent the last seven years on them. He could stride a twelve-inch beam without hesitation, could visualize the blueprints for each level, and knew every piece of cover. That might give them the edge they needed.

“It’s funny.” Richard’s face glowed pale in oncoming headlights. “My son would never expect me to do this.”

“What?”

“Rescue him.” Richard sighed. “I’ve been a lousy father. When I grew up, my dad was always gone. Working, building this company for me to inherit. He was proud of that, that it would one day be for me. Only, in the process, he forgot to actually be a father. I swore that I’d be different, that I’d be there. But I’ve been as bad as he was.”

The confession surprised Danny. Richard had always kept up a gruff front, never revealing this kind of emotion. Had he maintained the same face around his son? Debbie had said Tommy told her his father didn’t know he was alive.

“My father worked hard, too,” Danny said, his voice quiet. “I used to hate him for it.”

“He was gone a lot?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t it.” He remembered the way Dad would leave the house in the morning, his posture upright, almost military despite his dusty clothes and lunch box. “I hated that we were poor. I hated eating potatoes and fried mush to stretch the grocery budget, hated that we had to listen to Sox games from the parking lot because we couldn’t afford tickets. I’d see these kids on the El, North Side kids, with trendy clothes and headphones, money to spare, and I’d hate that I didn’t have what they did.” He started cracking his knuckles one at a time. “One day I stole the Walkman out of a kid’s schoolbag. Suddenly I had something I wanted, just because I had the balls to take it. I was proud of that. Kept it under my pillow.”

“Let me guess. Your father found it.”

Danny nodded. “He was stern, strict, and I thought he’d beat me blue. Instead, he sat me down and tried to explain why it was wrong. Said that you had to earn things. That a man was measured by the way he acted, not what he had.” He shook his head. “As he’s talking, I’m thinking about how Joey Morgan’s older brother makes two grand a week stealing cars, and gets to spend most of his time in the bar. Compared to that, my Dad seemed like a fool, busting his hump every day and never having anything to show for it…” He trailed off. “It took fifteen years to begin to understand what the old man really meant. And by then, he was dead.”

They rode in silence. The skyline loomed larger, a bright harvest moon hanging above it. They’d left Lakeshore for surface streets five minutes ago. Just a few more blocks. The roads here were quiet, with few cars and no pedestrians. The same things that had made the construction site a good place to keep Tommy made it a good place for Evan to plan the meet. A couple of gunshots would go unobserved.

That brought back the sliver of fear, the old tingle in Danny’s fingers and wrists. No fighting it this time. He thought of Karen and Tommy, bound and scared. All of the last weeks came down to the next half hour.

More than that. All of his life.

“Over there. By that park.”

Richard nodded, steering the Range Rover to the playground. Shallow ruts marked where Danny had driven across it yesterday. The loft was two short blocks from here. On foot, he could wend through dark alleys and approach unseen. It would do.

Danny reached for the door handle, then stopped and looked over at Richard. The glow from the dashboard carved his face from the darkness. He looked ready, resolute, but a deep sadness had inscribed itself on his features. Richard had discovered what really mattered to him just in time to lose it. Danny winced, fought the urge to look away as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Richard,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry to have dragged you and Tommy into this.”

Richard glanced at him. “There’s no forgiving you.”

Danny nodded. “I understand.”

“But I know you had no choice.” Richard’s eyes were weary. “That helps.”

But you did have a choice, the voice inside Danny whispered. In the beginning. You could have gone to the cops and taken your chances. Even if they’d tried to charge you for the pawnshop, at least you wouldn’t have fucked up any other lives. You had a choice and you made the wrong one.

Never again. He gripped the handle, took a deep breath, exhaled loudly. Then he opened the door, slid to the ground, and closed it behind him. The city’s hum filled his ears. Not waiting for Richard to pull away, Danny sprinted for the shade of the alley, keeping low. He didn’t stop running until he had his back against the cold brick of a building. He glanced in both directions, then loped off to the west, dodging from shadow to shadow.

It was time to clean up his mess. No matter the cost.

43

Considering the thing cost twice a detective’s salary, the Range Rover seemed awfully impractical. A gas guzzler, a bitch to park, and, oh yes, incredibly easy to tail.

Sean Nolan had hung back through most of the drive, staying football lengths behind Danny and Richard as they tooled down Lakeshore. The riskiest part had been in Evanston, at the man’s house. When Danny had started banging on the door, Nolan felt sure he’d turn around, spot him parked two doors down. But he didn’t, just kept pounding until the man let him in. While Danny was inside the house, Nolan had radioed in the address. Dispatch told him it belonged to a Richard O’Donnell. The same name was on the signs at the construction sites. Whatever was going on, Danny’s boss was involved.

Nolan didn’t have it figured yet, not quite, but he could feel it coming together. Enough time as a detective, you started to tap into something. Like using the Force. A part of you just started to sense something about to go down.

He thought about calling Matthews or Jackson, asking them to saddle up and join him. Detectives rolled solo all the time, but a smart man never walked into an actual situation without someone watching his back.

Thing was, they’d be in Area One, probably Englewood, where the bangers ran. For some reason, the bad guys loved holidays; even around Christmas, there was always a huge spike in crime – domestic violence, armed robbery, suicide. And Halloween brought the crazies out in force. If he called for backup, he’d be pulling cops away from what was sure to be a bad scene.

Not yet. He’d give it a little while, see what shaped up.

Ahead of him, the Range Rover abruptly stopped beside a small park. There’d been no warning, and he swung over hastily, pulling the sedan into the empty parking lot of an ironworks. What were they doing? Some sort of a meet? If so, Danny was losing his touch. The Rover wasn’t what you’d call inconspicuous in this neighborhood.

Then, as Nolan squinted at the truck, the passenger door opened and a figure in black jumped out. The man started sprinting the moment his feet hit the ground, cutting across the park and heading for an alley just beyond it. The Rover pulled away from the curb.

Danny had been on the passenger side.

Now Nolan had two targets. He could easily ride Danny down. But it would mean blowing his cover, and ending whatever was going on. The net result would be no different than it had been this afternoon. He needed to lie low until he figured out what was going on. With a soft curse, Nolan put the the car in drive and followed the Rover, keeping a hundred yards back. If he had to, he’d ride this tail all the way to hell.