“I know,” Sara said. “I just didn’t want to risk a leak.”

“You told Jared, didn’t you?”

“You know that’s different. It was okay to tell him, and it was okay to tell the ambulance drivers who picked up the imaginary body and a few of McCabe’s cop friends, but that’s where I want to draw the line. I figured the fewer people who know, the better.”

“Are you reading my lips here?” Guff asked. Slowly, he whispered the words, “He’s our boss!”

“And if he wants to ream someone, he can ream me,” Sara said. “Otherwise, we’re doing this the way we designed. It’s a perfect prisoners’ dilemma: If Rafferty and Elliott both stay quiet, they’re safe, but if one leaks, the other knows he’s going down. In a few hours, self-preservation’s going to make one of them snap. All we have to do is wait for the fireworks.”

“You really think it’s going to be that easy?”

“Nothing’s easy,” Sara said. “But as long as we’re the only ones who know the truth, it’ll all work out.”

After dragging the body into the living room, Elliott went back to the kitchen and picked up the phone. He dialed Rafferty’s number and waited. Eventually, he heard Rafferty answer, “Hello?”

“How you doing?” Elliott asked. “Having a rough day?”

“You killed her, didn’t you?” Rafferty asked. “I’m going to rip your head off, you gloating little-”

“Now, now, now, don’t overact,” Elliott interrupted. “Why don’t you come down here and we can have a little talk.”

“If you want to talk, I want you up here.”

“Not a chance. We do it here, or not at all. Take some time and think about it – you’ll be happy you came. I have something I think you’ll want to see.”

“What do you-”

Elliott hung up the phone. Turning back to the table, he opened a small box of bullets and reloaded his gun. To his left was a set of plastic hands. At the base of the hands, two words were written in black ink: OSCAR RAFFERTY. This was it, he thought. All he had to do was wait.

“Why hasn’t he called?” Guff asked, leaning his chin on Sara’s desk and staring at the phone.

“It’s only been two hours,” Sara said. “Give him time.”

“Maybe he’s in trouble.”

“He’s fine. I’m sure he’s just trying to make it realistic. You know how Conrad is: Can’t rush perfection.”

“How do you think McCabe is doing with Doniger?”

“When I saw him, she was driving him nuts.”

“Then maybe we should go down there,” Guff suggested. “Just to give her an update.”

“If it’ll make you happy, let’s go,” Sara said, following Guff to the door.

A few minutes later, Sara and Guff reached the basement. Hoping to get a look at how things were going, they entered the viewing room first. But as they stared out through the two-way mirror, all they saw was an empty room.

Before they could even react, Officer McCabe darted into the viewing room, his forehead dripping sweat. “Please tell me she’s with you!” he said.

“What’re you talking about?” Guff asked.

“Where the hell is Doniger?” Sara demanded.

“I don’t know,” McCabe said. “She asked me to get her some coffee, and when I got back, she was gone!”

“Oh, my God!” Guff shouted.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Sara asked, panic filling her voice. “She can’t be gone.”

“How long ago did this happen?” Guff asked.

“Not even ten minutes ago,” McCabe said. “I was checking the bathroom, but when I heard the noise coming from here, I ran back and found you.”

“Guff, watch the elevators,” Sara instructed. “And keep an eye on the stairs. The two of us’ll check every room down here. We’re in a basement – it’s not like she can crawl out a window.”

Sara darted full speed down the hallway, entering every room she came to. The basement was mostly used as a storage area, so room after room was filled with nothing but industrial-sized file cabinets. How could she get out? Sara asked herself. Did she know it was a setup? Did someone tell her? Did McCabe let her out on purpose? At that moment, Sara stopped. What if Victor had something on McCabe? And what if Jared told Victor… No. No, he’d never do that. Get it out of your head. Within ten minutes, every room had been searched. Claire Doniger was nowhere in sight.

“I can’t believe this,” Sara said, trying to catch her breath. Turning to McCabe, she asked, “How could you leave her alone? Were you even thinking?”

“Listen, honey, I did my best to watch her. It’s not my fault.”

“Oh, really? Then whose fault is it? It must be mine, because I’m the moron who thought you were up to the job of baby-sitting!”

“Calm down,” Guff said. He pulled Sara away from McCabe. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t,” Sara insisted. “The moment Rafferty and Elliott find out she’s alive, we’re dead.”

Chapter 19

“YOU REALLY THINK SHE’S DUMB ENOUGH TO GO TO Rafferty’s?” Sara asked as she sat next to Guff in the backseat of the speeding police car.

“She’s got nowhere else to go,” one of the two police officers in the front seat said. “Her house is a crime scene.”

“But she doesn’t know that.”

“If she’s really in love with Rafferty, that’s where she’s headed,” the officer said. “Now, tell me about your husband. Were you able to find him?”

“There’s no answer at his office,” Sara said, trying to sound confident. “I called some of the partners he works with, but no one’s seen him or his assistant since this morning.”

Guff looked over at his boss. “Sara, what if he-”

“I’m sure he’s just out of the office,” Sara interrupted anxiously.

“But what if he’s not? Maybe we should’ve waited for Conrad.”

“We left a message at the office. He’ll find it when he gets back.”

“Try your husband again,” the officer said. He handed her his cellular phone.

“Not now,” she insisted, refusing to face the possibility. “Wait until we’re done with Rafferty.”

When they arrived at Rafferty’s building, the two police officers approached the doorman. “We’re here to see Oscar Rafferty in apartment 1708,” one of them said. The doorman reached for the phone, and the officer added, “We’d prefer if you didn’t call him.”

The doorman ushered them inside and said, “I don’t know anything, I don’t want to know anything, I don’t care.”

“You’re a real humanitarian,” Guff said as they entered the lobby. No one said another word until all four of them were inside the elevator.

As they approached the seventeenth floor, Sara turned to Guff. “Obviously, Rafferty can’t know we’re looking for Doniger. So the story is that we’re looking for Kozlow. Easy enough, yes?” Everyone nodded in silent agreement.

Reaching into the pocket of her pantsuit, Sara rechecked the gun that Conrad had given her before he left for Hoboken. Seeing what Sara was doing, Guff said, “Stop worrying about it. You don’t have to use it – he just thought you should have it.”

“It’s fine,” Sara said. “I can handle it.”

At Rafferty’s door, Sara rang the bell.

“Who is it?” Rafferty asked.

“Mr. Rafferty, it’s Sara Tate from the district attorney’s office. I spoke to you last week.”

Suddenly, the door opened and Rafferty looked out at his visitors. His features were drawn. His usually combed-back hair was a stringy mess. And his Brioni sportswear had been replaced by creased khakis and a rumpled shirt with the cuffs undone. “What is it, Ms. Tate?” he asked abruptly.

“Sorry to bother you again, but I was wondering if we could ask for a bit more of your time.”

“If this is about Claire, I want you to know that I’d never-”

“We can deal with that later,” Sara said. “Right now, we were hoping to take a quick look around your apartment. We have reason to believe that Tony Kozlow might be here.”

“Why would-” Rafferty fought to keep his composure. “You’re welcome to come in.” As Rafferty stepped aside, Guff and the two officers made their way into the apartment and began their search. Sara stayed with Rafferty. Studying his tired eyes, she tried to figure out what he knew.