“No, Carl, everything’s fine.” Fitzpatrick and he were friends, and he hated being vague. “It’s just something that’s come up I have to see through.”

“Couple of weeks…” The chief scratched the back of his head. He pieced through the file. “Gimme a few days. I’ll shuffle things around. When did you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Fitzpatrick’s eyes stretched wide. “Tomorrow’s impossible, Ty. This is totally out of the blue.”

“To you, maybe.” Hauck slowly stood up. “To me it’s long overdue.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The doorbell rang. Barking, Tobey scampered to the door. Alex was at a friend’s, studying for an exam. Samantha was on the phone in the family room, her legs dangling over the back of the couch, Heroes on the TV.

“Can you get that, Mom?”

Karen had just finished up cleaning in the kitchen. She tossed down the cloth and went to answer the door.

When she saw who it was, she lit up in surprise.

“There’s a couple of things you can do for me,” the lieutenant said, huddled in a beige nylon jacket against a slight rain.

“My daughter’s at home,” Karen said, glancing back into the family room, not wanting to involve her. She grabbed a rain jacket off the bench and threw it over her shoulders and stepped outside. “What?”

“You can look through any of your husband’s personal belongings. Notes from his desk. Canceled checks, credit-card receipts. Whatever might still be around. Are you still able to access his computer?”

Karen nodded. She’d never had the urge to remove it from his study. It had never been quite the right time. “I think so.”

“Good. Go through his old e-mails, any travel sites he may have visited before he left, phone records. What about his work-related things? Are they still around?”

“I have some stuff of his that was given back to me in a box downstairs. I’m not sure where his office computer ended up. What am I looking for?”

“Anything that might prove useful in determining where he might go. Even if it ends up it’s not where he is now, it could at least be a starting point. Something to go on…”

Karen covered her head against the raindrops. “It’s been over a year.”

“I know it’s been a year. But there are still records. Get in touch with his ex-secretary or the travel agency he used to use. Maybe they sent him brochures or made some reservations that no one would have even thought were important then. Try to think yourself, where would he go? You lived with him for eighteen years.”

“You don’t think I haven’t already racked my brain?” The rain intensified. Karen wrapped her arms against the chill. “I’ll look again.”

“I’ll help you arrange to get some of it done if you need,” Hauck said, “when I get back.”

“When you get back? Back from where?”

“ Pensacola.”

“ Pensacola?” Karen squinted at him. “What’s down there? Is that for me?”

“I’ll let you know,” Hauck said with a smile, “as soon as it’s clear to me. In the meantime I want you to go through whatever you can find. Think back. There’s always some clue. Something someone’s left behind. I’ll be in touch when I get back.”

“Thank you,” Karen said. She placed her hand against his slicker, rain going down her face. Her eyes suddenly full.

It had been a long time since she’d felt the presence of someone in her life, and here was this man, this man she barely knew who had come into her life in the mayhem after Charlie had died, and he’d seen her, rootless as a craft foundering in the waves of a storm. And now he was the one person she could cling to in this world, the one anchor. It was strange.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all this, Lieutenant. I’m sure you have enough to do in your job.”

“You didn’t drag me into it.” Hauck shook his head. “And anyway, I’m not doing this on the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want this out in the open, did you? You didn’t want me to have to deal with whatever came back. I’d never be able to do that if I was there.”

She looked at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I took a few weeks,” he said, rain streaming down his collar. Then he winked. “Don’t worry about it. I had no idea what to do with the time anyway. But it’s only me. No badge. No one else.” His blue eyes glimmered in a soft smile. “I hope that’s okay.”

Was it okay? Karen didn’t know what she was expecting when she went to him. Maybe only someone to listen to. But now her heart melted a bit at what he was willing to do.

“Why…?”

He shrugged. “Everybody else-they were either really busy or just needed the paycheck.”

Karen smiled, gazing back at him, a warming, grateful sensation filling up her chest. “I meant, why are you doing this, Lieutenant?”

Hauck shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I don’t really know.”

“You know.” Karen looked at him. She pushed back a lock of wet hair that had fallen into her eyes. “You’ll let me know when it’s time. But thank you anyway, Lieutenant. Whatever it is.”

“I thought we went through that one already,” he said. “It’s Ty.”

“All right, Ty.”

A glow of grateful warmth came into her gaze. Karen held out her hand. He took it. They stood there like that, rain pelting down on them.

“It’s Karen.” Her eyes met his. “I’m happy to meet you, Ty.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Gregory Khodoshevsky gunned the engine on his three-wheeled, seventy-thousand-dollar T-Rex sport cycle, and the three-hundred-horsepower vehicle shot over the makeshift course he had set up on the grounds of his twenty-acre Greenwich estate.

Trailing close behind, his fourteen-year-old son, Pavel, in his own bright red T-Rex, gamely tried to keep up.

“C’mon, boy!” Khodoshevsky laughed through the helmet mike as he maneuvered around a cone, passing his son back on the other side. “You’re not going to let an old starik like me take you, are you?”

Pavel cut the turn sharply, almost flipping his machine. Then he righted himself and sped up to almost sixty miles per hour, going airborne over a knoll.

“I’m right behind you, old man!”

They sped around the man-made pond, past the helicopter pad, then bounced back onto a long straightaway on Khodoshevsky’s vast property. On the rise, his eighteen-thousand-square-foot redbrick Georgian stood like a castle with its enormous fountained courtyard and sprawling eight-car garage. Which Khodoshevsky filled with a Lamborghini Murciélago, a yellow Hummer that his wife, Ludmila, paraded around town, and a customized black Maybach Mercedes complete with bulletproof windows and a Bloomberg satellite setup. That cost him over half a million alone.

Though he was only forty-eight, the “Black Bear,” as Khodoshevsky was sometimes known, was one of the most powerful people in the world, though his name would not be found on any list. In the kleptocracy that became the privatization spree in Russia of the 1990s, Khodoshevsky convinced a French investment bank to buy a run-down automotive-parts plant in Irkutsk, then leveraged it into a controlling seat on the board of Tazprost, Russia’s largest-and ailing-automobile manufacturer, which, upon the sudden demise of two of its more uncompliant board members, dropped in Khodoshevsky’s lap at the age of thirty-six. From there he obtained the rights to open Mercedes and Nissan dealerships in Estonia and Latvia, along with hundreds of Gaznost filling stations all over Russia to fill them up.

Under Yeltsin the Russian economy was carved up by a handful of eager kapitalisti. One big fucking candy store, Khodoshevsky always called it. In the free-for-all that became the public finance sector, he opened department stores modeled after Harrods that sold pricey Western brands. He bought liquor distributorships for expensive French champagnes and wines. Then banks, radio stations. Even a low-cost airline.