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She happily obliged, and as she read the number off I compared it to the one Sortigan had been given. A match. I thanked the clerk, hung up, and looked at Joe.

“The Golden Breakers,” I said. “Sortigan faxed the information to Weston at that number. I’m fairly certain we’ll find the resort is also Randy Hartwick’s employer.”

“Call back and ask for Hartwick,” Joe instructed.

I did so.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hartwick is out of town,” the clerk informed me after putting me on hold briefly.

“Out of town?” I repeated, and Joe looked over and gave me a thumbs-up sign. “Do you know where he went, or when he’ll be back?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Damn,” I said, feigning heavy disappointment. “I really need to speak with him today. I’m afraid a very close friend of Randy’s passed away, and I know he’ll want to be notified as soon as possible. Is there any way you could help me get in touch with him?”

“Oh, that’s awful,” she said with sympathy that sounded so genuine I felt bad. “Mr. Hartwick has a cell phone. I don’t know the number, but if you give me ten minutes I could probably find out.”

“That would be great.” I gave her the office number, and she promised to call back.

I had hung up and turned to Joe, ready to explain the phone call, when someone knocked on the door. We both looked at it, then nodded at each other, expecting to see Swanders and Kraus, or possibly Cody.

“Come in,” Joe said.

The man who entered wasn’t Swanders, Kraus, or Cody, but Joe seemed to recognize him. I’d never seen him before.

“What brings you here, Mr. Kinkaid?” Joe said, getting to his feet and offering his hand. “This is my partner, Lincoln Perry. Lincoln, this is Aaron Kinkaid. He used to work with Wayne Weston.”

I shook hands with the visitor. Kinkaid was a tall guy, at least six-four, with a slender build and dark red hair. A few freckles spotted the bridge of his nose, drawing attention to the stark contrast of his red hair and green eyes. He had enormous hands, hands that could palm a basketball the way most people could hold a softball. His tall, rangy build, red hair, and freckles made me think of a farm boy, but he had to be nearing forty.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. His voice had a slight drawl to it, a languid delivery that enhanced the farm-boy image. He sat down and clasped his big hands together, then frowned and stared at his shoes.

“I’m afraid I have something to say that you’re probably not going to like, Mr. Pritchard,” he said. Joe raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “You see,” Kinkaid continued, “I wasn’t completely honest with you when you came over to Sandusky to talk with me. But I’d like to make it up to both of you. What I mean is, well, if you’d be willing, I’d like to work with you.”

“Work with us?” Joe said.

Kinkaid nodded. “Yes, sir. Work with you on the Weston case, I mean. I think I can help, and I want to help.”

“Why?” I asked, and he looked up for the first time. “Why did you go from lying to Joe to wanting to help us on the case?”

He met my eyes for a moment and then looked back at his shoes. “Because,” he said, “I’m in love with Wayne Weston’s wife.”

CHAPTER 10

WE ALL sat in silence for a minute after that, and then Aaron Kinkaid told us his story. He’d lied to Joe, he said, only when he’d explained the circumstances of his separation from Wayne Weston. He’d told Joe that Weston had been closemouthed and ended his partnership with Kinkaid for unknown reasons. In reality, Weston had an excellent reason to break off the partnership-Kinkaid had approached Julie Weston with feelings he said had been building for months.

“I know she had feelings for me, too,” he told us. “She admitted that much to me. But there was her daughter to consider. Julie told me not to pursue it, and for a few weeks everything was calm. Then she became uncomfortable and talked to Wayne about it.”

I glanced at Joe and noticed he was looking at Kinkaid with undisguised scorn, clearly unimpressed with anyone who would pursue his partner’s wife. Joe’s own wife, Ruth, had been dead for several years, and I think marriage seemed even more sacred to him now than before. He kept quiet, though.

Kinkaid told us an enraged Wayne Weston had confronted him about his advances toward Julie. Kinkaid hadn’t denied his attraction to his partner’s wife, and Weston demanded he leave the firm. Kinkaid resisted at first.

“Then I realized it was hopeless,” he said. “We’d never have been able to work together again. Wayne couldn’t trust me, and I understood that, and I didn’t blame him for it. If you can’t trust your partner, you need to move on. So we moved on.” He ran one of his big, bony hands through his hair. “You need to understand that I really care about Julie, though. I see the way you’re looking at me, and I know what you’re thinking-that I’m a first-class prick, a guy who wants his partner’s wife just because she’s off-limits, or maybe just because of her beauty. That wasn’t it, though. Julie’s an amazing woman.”

He looked at me, as if I might understand what Joe could not. “She’s truly one of a kind. Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but after a few months I was hardly even aware of her looks. She’s unlike any other woman I’ve ever known. She has this depth, this quality of intelligence and compassion, man…” He shook his head. “It’s like she figures you out, understands you better than you understand yourself. I tried not to think about her. I tried to stay away from her, even. It didn’t help. Nothing could help. I know you look at me and all you can see is an asshole who tried to steal his partner’s wife, but I tell you, I loved her like I’ve never loved anyone before. And I know I’ll never love anyone like that again.”

Joe and I didn’t say a word. We’re good at that, sometimes. If there’s anything better than our tag-team wit, it’s our tag-team stony silence.

“Listen,” Kinkaid said eventually, “I heard about Wayne’s death, and Julie and Betsy being missing, and I didn’t want to have any part of it. I didn’t want to allow myself to even think about it, because I knew if I did, I’d stop feeling sorry for my dead partner and start wishing I could see his wife again. You know what kind of a bastard that made me feel like? But I’m not worrying about it anymore. I’ve got to know where that woman is, and where that little girl is. That’s all I care about. If I can learn what happened to them, I’ll walk away and be done with it. But I’ve got to know. I’ve got to know.”

Joe cleared his throat. “That’s great, Kinkaid. I respect your desire to help, but I’m afraid that’s not how we work. Lincoln and I work alone. Exclusively. We don’t posse up on anything, all right? You want to help so badly, I’ll give you the number of the detectives in charge of the case. Maybe they’ll appreciate the assistance more than we do.”

“I understand that reaction,” Kinkaid said, squeezing his big hands together and nodding his head. “But I remind you I’m not a stranger to this business. I know what I’m doing. In fact, I’ve got more experience working in the private sector than either of you. Yeah, you were cops, but it’s a different world out there if you don’t have a badge. I know how to work in that world, and I know how to do it quickly.”

“We’re stumbling along all right on our own, thanks,” I said.

Joe nodded. “I have to hold his hand a lot of the time, but we’ve managed to get by so far. I think we’ll continue to manage.”

Kinkaid got to his feet, his broad frame towering over Joe’s desk. “Fine,” he said. “I’m not going to beg you. But it’s your mistake. I know Wayne Weston better than anyone. I know his history, I know his mind, I know his habits. And I’m going to find out what the hell happened in that house. You can take that to the bank, gentlemen.”