“For God’s sake.”
Scott pursed his lips. “Why were you at the game today?”
“I wanted to see her play. Jesus, man. I’m not going to do anything to her.”
“I know you would never intentionally hurt her.”
“What does that mean?”
The man shrugged. “Take it how you like.”
Alex had two inches and twenty pounds on Scott. Shoving him out of the doorway would be the easiest thing in the world. Push past him, head straight for the stairs, find Cassie up in her bedroom. Close the door, sweep her into his arms, hold her close. Whisper in her ear. Tell her…
What?
That he loved her?
That everything would be OK?
That she might never understand what he was doing, what it was likely to cost him, how many people he was betraying, but that he was doing it for her?
Instead, he said, “Please?”
Scott wavered. Alex could see him considering it. See that he didn’t want to be the bad guy. That, in fact, he wasn’t. A voice came from down the hall, female, maybe Cassie, maybe Trish, he couldn’t be sure. Whoever it was, it made up Scott’s mind. He straightened. “I’m sorry. Not tonight.”
“Listen. I know this doesn’t make sense. But I might not have another chance. Please?”
“You’re right, that doesn’t make sense. We’re not leaving for a couple of weeks. Why don’t you come back tomorrow afternoon?”
He sighed. “Yeah.” He turned and started back down the walk.
“Alex.”
He spun on his heel, stood with the rain running down his shaved head.
“Are you OK?”
He almost laughed. Instead, he said, “Sure,” and started for the car. He had almost made it when he heard sounds behind him, Scott’s voice saying, “Cassie, wait-”
“Daddy!”
He turned in time to see her sprinting down the walk, bent to scoop her up into his arms and hoist her off the ground. His little girl. He could smell her hair, feel the warmth of her body.
In that instant was every other. The way he used to sit in his beat-up chair, legs going numb, unwilling to move as she napped on his chest, her baby’s breath and milk smell. A Fourth of July, Cassie maybe six, spelling her name in the air with a sparkler. The frozen perfection of her guarding the soccer goal this afternoon, captured mid-lunge by his mental camera. “My girl,” he said. “My girl.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. “I don’t want to go to Arizona. I want to stay here with you.”
I want it too, baby girl. I want only that forever.
Over her shoulder, he saw Scott hurrying toward them, his gaze wary. The front door was wide open, and Trish stepped into it, squinting to see what was going on.
Alex allowed himself one more thought of hopping in the car with her, forgetting all about drug deals and police and dead men, just hitting the road together. Best friends and partners in crime. It was so beautiful it hurt to look at.
He said, “It’s OK, Cass. It will be OK.”
Scott had reached them, stood with his hands out, like he was thinking of tackling them both. Alex looked at him, saw the fear in his eyes. Realized that he was scared of exactly what Alex had been thinking.
Alex lowered her to the ground, knelt in front of her. “You know I love you, right?”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll always remember that.”
“I promise. But don’t make me go!”
His knees felt weak. For a moment, he closed his eyes. Reached deep inside himself, not sure he had the strength to say what he knew he had to. “It’s for the best, Cass. Scott and Mom, they both love you. You can have a normal life with them.”
“But I want to be with you.”
“I know, baby girl. I want that too. But this is better.” He clenched his fist. “This is better.”
Scott said, “Alex.”
He nodded. Glanced up at the man, imploring, not sure what he was asking for. Everything, maybe. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, he forgot all his anger toward the guy, forgot all the ways he’d been wronged. Just saw a man who also loved his daughter. “You take care of her, all right?”
“I will.” The words solemn and the gaze steady. “On my life.”
Alex turned back to his daughter. “I have to go, sweetie. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have some things I need to take care of. They’re important.”
“More important than me?”
“Nothing is more important than you.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing.”
Then, before his will broke along with his heart, he stood and turned around. The ten steps to the car were the hardest of his life. Behind him, he heard her voice, saying, “Don’t go,” and then he opened the car door and got in. Fired it up and slammed it into reverse and spun out of the driveway fast.
This is for you, Cass. It’s all for you.
When he reached the end of the block, he stopped. In his rearview, he could see the three of them. Cassie staring, Trish behind, her hands on his daughter’s shoulders. Scott stood alongside, his back straight. They looked like a family. Like they would be happy.
Time to make sure they stayed that way. He turned the corner and reached for his cell phone.
CHAPTER 32
THE THREE OF THEM stared into the Cadillac’s empty trunk. Mitch kept fighting the urge to close and open it again, as if the stuff would magically reappear. The rain soaked him.as if
“Victor?” Ian asked at last.
“No,” Jenn said. “He didn’t know about this.”
“No one knew about it,” Mitch said, his voice hollow. “No one but us.”
Think, think, think. What does this mean?
Part of him felt an enormous relief. If the stuff was gone, then there was nothing they could do about it. There was also no point in turning themselves in. They had decided to do the right thing, been willing to, but circumstance had made it impossible. A lucky break.
Except that one drop could kill, and they had hidden a gallon of the stuff. Not taken it to the police, or called the FBI. And now it was gone. How many would die because of that?
“Oh my God.” Jenn put a hand to her face. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah.”
“No, it’s”-she looked up at them, her face pale-“it just slipped out.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t tell him on purpose. He came to see me this afternoon. To apologize, and we were talking, and I just said it without thinking. That it was in the trunk of the car.”
Mitch stared. “Who? Who did you say that to?” But in his heart, he knew the answer already.
“Alex.”
IT WAS ALL FALLING APART.
Not, Ian reflected, back in Jenn’s kitchen, wet suit plastered to wet skin, that it had ever exactly been together. Everything about their situation had been screwed pretty much from the jump.
OK. So things are bad. What do you do?
Only one answer. The same one he’d always fallen back on. Think about it like a game.
Not gambling or one of the political modeling games. Strategy, then. Like the battlefield sims he’d played in college. Balance strengths and weaknesses, figure the goal, and then move toward it. Meanwhile, try to forget that you have a phone number memorized, that relief from sickness and doubt is one call and a stop at an ATM away. It was only midnight. He could be the proud owner of an eight ball by 12:30-
A game.
Right. OK, then. Strengths.
“I can’t believe he took it.” Jenn was twisting a lock of hair like a phone cord.
“I can,” Mitch said.
“I know, you hate him-”
“No, I don’t.” Mitch sighed. “I don’t. I was trying to become him, I think. But you had it right from the beginning. His daughter. He wouldn’t be thinking about anything else.”
“But to give Victor chemical weapons-”