“Two real bastards,” she finally said, shaking her head with a bit of a derisive laugh. “I surely can pick ’em, can’t I?”
Then it seemed to overwhelm her and she took her sunglasses off and wiped away a tear.
“Next time,” Hauck said, shrugging, “maybe you should give Match.com a try.” Merrill laughed. He squeezed her arm.
“Thank you for what you did. I think I may owe your firm some money.”
“Why don’t we just call it a wash?” He winked and got up. “Let’s just see if we can get Uncle Sam to cover the bill.”
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
A few days later
He sat in the BMW looking out at the pleasant white ranch on the quiet cul-de-sac in Darien.
It was the kind of tree-lined residential street any kid would be happy to grow up on. SUVs, on their way to baseball practice and dance rehearsals, backed out of the driveways. A yellow school bus pulled up at the corner and several kids jumped off with one or two friendly shoves and high fives, then scattered on their way. A UPS truck parked at the curb and the driver waved to the homeowner as he delivered his package.
A kid would be lucky, Hauck thought as he focused on the clean white house, a plastic soccer goal set up on the lawn, to grow up in such a place.
A few minutes passed and a silver Volvo wagon came down the block. It made a sweeping turn into the driveway Hauck had pulled up across from. The white electric garage door went up. The wagon parked outside. A gangly black Labradoodle jumped out and happily pranced around the lawn, followed by a boy, around eight, his mop of sandy hair reminding Hauck so much of his mom’s. An oversize A-Rod jersey on. He had a knapsack slung over his shoulder and before he ran inside after the dog, he gave a soccer ball on the lawn a pretty fair wallop and sent it flying over the plastic goal, over the chain-link fence into the neighboring yard.
The boy put his hands to his face like he’d screwed up, but the older man, Marc’s father, merely came up and put his arm around his grandson and drew him to his chest.
“You see that shot, Grandpa?”
“Seemed like a goal to me.” His grandfather made a face as if impressed. “That’s how I used to kick ’em back in the day.” He mussed the kid’s hair. “Around the Civil War.”
The kid smiled guiltily. “Sorry.”
Watching from his car, Hauck felt his eyes well up with tears. The older man said to the boy, “You go inside. You’ve got homework to do. I’ll go over to the Kendells’ and retrieve it.”
The boy yelled, “Thanks, Grandpa,” and ran into the garage.
Hauck stepped out of the car. The older man came down the driveway toward him. Hauck was about to go up to him. He had practiced in his mind what he would say, how he would handle it. But he felt something, a sudden caution, rooting his feet. A memory rushed into his mind and it made him stop.
April took him outside the dry cleaner’s to the street. “There’s someone I want you to meet…”
She took him over to the Mercedes, the soft freckles on her cheeks seeming to beam, and looked at the boy sitting in the rear car seat.
“His name is Evan…Evan Ty Glassman.”
Hauck stared at the child and before he could wave hi, before he could even speak, he knew. He knew what it was April had brought him out to see and with a glisten in her eye, what she was trying to say. A wave of emotion hit him head-on.
“He’s your gift to me, Ty…To all of us. Something I can never repay.”
“You don’t have to repay me for anything, April…”
He looked at her. Then back to the boy. There were parts of who he was inside he felt he owed to her. There were parts of her he felt as close to, even after all these years, as if they were part of his own skin.
“The only reason we have him is because of you. Because of what you did. Every once in a while I just look at him and it takes me back. We both made it through, didn’t we?”
He looked at her, his heart expansive. “Yeah, we did.”
She opened the door and the four-year-old finally looked up. “Hi, Mommy.”
“Evan, I want you to meet a friend of mine. Lieutenant Hauck. He’s a policeman here in town. The top cop, I hear.”
“In my own mind, at least,” Hauck said, chuckling. He winked at the young boy. “Hey, guy.”
Evan smiled.
He saw what he’d once found so special about his mother in the softness of Evan’s green eyes and his light brown hair.
“He’s beautiful,” Hauck said. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you, Ty.” Her eyes grew shiny. “I don’t know what to say…”
He put his hand on April’s cheek and let it rest, their eyes meeting, really meeting, for the first time in years. Since she had turned and saw him across from her in her hospital bed. A moment that seemed so far away now. “You promise me, Ty, that you’ll keep an eye on him. If anything ever happens to me.”
Proud-proud of her as well-he nodded. “Of course. I promise.”
I’ll do whatever it takes.
Marc’s dad came toward him as he wound around the fence to retrieve the ball. Maybe he saw Hauck staring. Maybe he noticed the look that was on his face, that made him appear lost.
“Looking for someone?” the older man came up and said.
I did it for him, April. For the boy. How much Hauck wanted to tell him. How much he felt in his heart like he was about to burst. But not now. One day he would find a way in. He’d offer to take him to a game, introduce himself as an old friend of his mom’s. Tell him a story. But not now. He fought back tears.
I did it for him, April.
“No, not lost.” Hauck smiled. “Just passing through.”
EPILOGUE
Two weeks later
Agent Blum…Mr. Hauck…”
The heavyset government lawyer sat across from Naomi and him in his law offices on K Street in Washington, DC.
“As you know,” he said as he turned on a small digital recorder, “we’re here as part of the special prosecutor’s charge on this case to take additional depositions from you both on the matter we will call, for now, The United States Government versus the Gstaad Gang. Specifically referring to Messrs. Keaton, Hastings, and Simons, and any actions they might have participated in against the United States…”
Hauck glanced over at Naomi. She was dressed in a slim black pantsuit, a light blue top, a U.S. flag pinned on her lapel. Her hair was down to her shoulders. Her arm was out of the sling. He hadn’t seen her since their separate depositions right after Keaton’s arrest.
Despite the official proceedings, he couldn’t help but admire her. She looked great.
Naomi nodded smartly to the lawyer but shot a glance toward Hauck.
He caught her smile.
“This office will be interested in any and all matters related to the events, no matter how small or how seemingly unimportant. I guess we might as well start at the beginning.” The lawyer turned to Hauck, pushing the microphone his way. “I think it was this past March sixth when you first became involved in this case?”
Hauck looked back at him and shrugged. “This’ll take a bit of time.”
“We have as long as it takes, Mr. Hauck,” the lawyer said. “I hope you don’t have anything more pressing…”
“No, nothing more pressing.”
“You, Agent Blum?’
“No, nothing,” she replied, that familiar twinkle in her eye.
Hauck winked at her and started in. “Okay, then, here goes…”
He took the lawyer through the first time he heard of April Glassman’s death. That morning with Annie. Leaving a few choice details out. His first efforts to follow it up, then Merrill Simons, Thibault. Donovan. Even Campbell, the New York cop. After a couple of hours they were only up to Naomi’s arrival on the scene.
At noon, the lawyer looked at his watch and asked if they’d like to break for lunch.