“I thought he was Flemish.” Hauck grinned.
“Well, then you’d have had nothing to worry about.” April laughed. “And believe me, I think he was into that too. Finally I had to just leave the whole program. Dropped out. I stayed in a friend’s apartment for about three months. Lost about twenty pounds. Not sure I ever went out. Read the Upanishads cover to cover. Got involved in a bunch of self-actualization things. I finally took a job selling ad space for this financial magazine. That’s where I met this nice, sort of square, something-a-little-cute-about-him-somewhere guy who was into complex investment models and standard deviations from the mean”-she smiled-“but who I knew wouldn’t let me down and seemed to think I was the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Marc?” Hauck said, smiling.
She nodded.
“Did he know Rembrandt wasn’t Flemish?”
She chuckled. “I just didn’t want to be hurt again.” There was a shimmering in her wide, round eyes. “It wasn’t like there was this great love. He’s just the most stable man I ever met, and I didn’t want to be let down.”
“But you built a life.”
“Yeah.” She nodded brightly, happily. “We built a life. I have a beautiful little girl and a husband who gets up in the middle of the night like clockwork to check his overseas positions. We live in a fancy home. And go on nice vacations. I help out at Becca’s school.” She rotated her cup. “It’s just…It’s May. There are days it just comes and goes. I found my dad the first week of May. It’s always a rough time.” She shrugged and smiled. “See, for me, when you say ‘happy,’ I say that’s just a piece of time I don’t see my father’s face in that garage.”
Hauck looked at her across the bench. He squeezed her on the shoulder. “I won’t let you down.”
“No…” April smiled. “You wouldn’t, would you?” She covered his hand. “That’s why it’s nice being with you. Like I said, you’re just a guest at the old spa-not a resident.”
“You don’t have to be a resident either, April. Look at how you’ve helped me.”
April glanced at her watch. Her eyes grew wide. “Good Lord, I have to go. Becca’s got dance tonight. What kind of mother am I, going on so long with such a cute guy…” An idea seemed to hit her. “You know what we should do?”
“What?” he asked.
“We should take a picture. I have a camera here. You and I.”
“A picture?”
She shrugged. “You never know, one day that might be all we have.”
“That won’t happen,” Hauck said, “but sure…”
She dug into her purse, and as she did, it pushed her sleeve up, accidentally exposing her arm. April had always kept them covered.
Hauck’s gaze went to it. A bit in shock-a bit in sadness too.
There were marks. Several short slashes up her arm. Most appeared to have long since healed, but one or two still looked fresh and bright. He suddenly realized why.
His eyes lifted to April’s.
She smiled at him, as if her secret was now out. “So now you know…”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The phone that they removed from Sonny Merced’s body led to a sister in California who hadn’t spoken to him in months; a sometimes girlfriend who claimed she never wanted to see him again; a phone-in sex line; and a number that had been dialed just minutes before the attack, which led to a Michael Cassidy in Union, New Jersey. Who turned out to be a twelve-year-old kid, who, a week before, had lost his phone. Merced’s address was a post office box, the account for which was two months delinquent.
Merced was an ex-army ranger with the Eighty-second Airborne unit who had been drummed out of the service and had been an unindicted suspect in three rape investigations while over in the Middle East. He had an expired Michigan license and had been picked up twice in the past year on assault and drug possession charges. He had made a call to Cassidy’s stolen line minutes before attacking Jared and the police had found no unclaimed car in the rink lot afterward.
Whatever Merced’s motive, it was clear he wasn’t acting alone.
Sunday, the local papers and news channels carried the story of the Iraq War vet who had assaulted a handicapped boy in the locker room of the Hamill rink the night before. The fight to the death of the ex-detective in town who had managed to intercede.
Monday, back at work, everyone seemed to know all the de-tails. In the halls, catching coffee, they all were genuinely disbelieving and shocked, grateful Hauck was alright.
Basically, he tried to stay out of sight, at his desk doing paperwork, fielding a few calls. He asked Brooke to shield him from the press. But as the day went on, his mind couldn’t put aside the possible connection between the interests of his own firm, people here, and the investigation into Dani Thibault. Hauck had crossed the line by continuing to look into him. Had someone here tried to stop it by planting that pen? Setting him up.
Around eleven, his cell phone rang. When he checked the display, “United States Government” came on the screen.
Naomi Blum.
“You got my gift?” Hauck answered without saying hello.
“I got your gift. Thanks. And I’m about to give you one in return. But first, I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
“My arm feels like it’s gone through a chopper, but I’ll mend. Make any progress on the glass?”
“I want you to know,” she said, “we’re starting an investigation into Thibault and his connections. Thanks to you. One of the ways is to follow up on the person who attacked you. Assuming, of course, we’re not just dealing with some kind of sick perv.”
“I think we both know that’s a pretty safe bet. Besides, he knew who I was; he called me an ex-cop. You still have lingering doubts on whether there’s any connection between James Donovan’s and Marc Glassman’s deaths?”
“I didn’t have any after I met you,” Naomi Blum said. “I just put my career on the line.”
There was something about her that Hauck couldn’t help but like. That was winning him over. She hadn’t fallen for the setup with the Talon pen. She thought Campbell was a dipshit. She’d done her homework on his background. And now she had run with what he’d shared. Put her career on the line. There was a lot of heart and energy in that little body.
Not to mention a not-half-bad set of bright, gray eyes. “You ready yet to tell me what you think this is all about?”
“How’s the boy?” she asked, dodging him.
“A little rattled. But he’s fine. He’s back at school. The local police have agreed to beef up the security…How does it sit with you that someone would try to get me to back off by harming an innocent kid like that?”
“I warned you, didn’t I, what you could expect for trouble.” She paused a moment and Hauck sensed some genuine concern. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re both okay.”
“So am I in or out?” Hauck asked. He figured he might as well throw all his cards on the table now.
Naomi chortled. “Didn’t you just get yourself a pretty good lesson in what being ‘in’ means?”
“Yeah, and I thought I kinda passed. I can help. Seems to me it’s a little late to pretend I’m on the sidelines.”
She paused. Hauck thought he might have her. She finally said, “Haven’t decided yet.”
“Thanks. Why don’t you let me know if there’s anything short of getting myself killed that can aid you in the decision.”
That made her laugh. “You were worried what it was going to be like for you back at work. Feeling any more comfortable?”
There was a knock at his door. Hauck wheeled around as it opened.
Tom Foley stepped in.
“How about I get back to you on that one.” He clicked off the phone, surprised to see his boss. “Tom.” He stood up. “C’mon in.”