“It’s Father’s Day this weekend,” she said.

“Is it?”

“Do you get lonely every year on Father’s Day, Kyle?”

“Not really. I celebrate in the usual way, I suppose. I throw a ball to myself in the yard, tousle my hair a bit, play a game of Stratego with myself. And then, when I misbehave, I tell myself I’ve been bad and send myself to bed without dinner. It’s all warm and fuzzy.”

“Tell me about your dad.”

“What’s there to tell? I was his bastard son. He pretty much ignored me when he was alive. And then he died.”

“How?”

“Heart attack.”

“Where?”

“Jersey, I think.”

“Did you blame Toth for what happened to him?”

“No, why would I? Did he have anything to do with it?” “I’m asking you.”

“And I’m asking you. Do you have any information linking Laszlo Toth to my father’s death?”

“No.”

“My dad was old already when he met my mom. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It just happened sooner, is all.”

“So what were you doing in that office last night?”

“Looking for him, I suppose.”

“Kyle?” Her hand slipped atop his. The gesture was calculated, she meant to show her concern as this Byrne tried to open up. But funny, it didn’t feel calculated. It felt good, real.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” said Kyle. “How’s your dad doing?”

“He’s dead.”

“So you understand.”

“No, not really.”

“Yes you do, you just don’t want to admit it. I didn’t get a chance to work out everything I needed to work out between him and me.”

“Work out what?”

“I don’t know. The father-son thing. The what’s-going-on-in-theworld thing. The meaning-of-life thing. Isn’t that what fathers tell you? I’ve always felt as if part of my answer is missing and everything else is just frozen while I search for it. I hoped I might find some answers in that office.”

“Were they there?”

“No.” He reached up and scratched his cheek. “You have something there. A little something—no, not there.” He reached up, brushed her cheek with his thumb, rubbed his thumb clean with his other fingers. “There.”

“Is it gone?”

“Yeah. The whole time you were asking all those questions, it was bothering me. Like a car crash, it was hard to take my eyes off it.”

She was still feeling the rub of his thumb on her cheek when the interrogation door opened and Henderson came in, accompanied by a beautiful Korean woman in a business suit. Ramirez yanked her hand from atop Kyle’s, yanked it away almost guiltily, as the woman in the suit tossed a card onto the table.

“Detective Ramirez, my name is Shin,” said the woman, “Katie Shin, from the law firm of Talbott, Kittredge and Chase. I’ll be representing Mr. Byrne.”

“Yo, Kat, what’s happening?” said Kyle.

“Shut up,” said Shin.

“Okay.”

“My understanding is that Mr. Byrne was found within his father’s old office and that neither the landlord nor the tenant’s widow, who is now holder of the lease, is pressing charges. Is that correct?”

“Possibly.”

“Then why is Mr. Byrne still being held?”

“We were just talking, Kat, no biggie,” said Kyle.

“What did I say?”

Kyle zipped up his lips.

“The talking has ended, right now,” said Shin. “There will be no more talking. Are you charging him with anything, Detective?”

“Not at the moment,” said Ramirez.

“And is he free to leave?”

“He’s always been free to leave.”

“Good, then we’ll both say good-bye.”

“Breakfast at Snow White?” said Kyle.

“If you want,” said Kat.

Kyle stood up, leaned toward Ramirez. “It was really a pleasure talking to you, Detective. You have your own father thing to work out, I can tell. We don’t have to do the dancing if that makes you feel awkward. Not everyone is comfortable with their body. Maybe we can just have a drink and talk. If you want to write down your number, I could give you a call.”

“I’m not that thirsty,” said Ramirez. “Keep out of trouble.”

“That’s my life’s goal.”

“No, I’m serious,” said Ramirez. “And don’t leave town, please.”

“Don’t you worry, Detective. Now that I know I’m a suspect in a real live actual murder case, I’m going to watch my every little step. But if you want to keep your eye on me, that’s fine. That’s more than fine.”

“Kyle,” said Katie Shin. “Are you actually flirting with the detective who locked you in this room in abject violation of your rights?”

“Well, yes,” said Kyle. “Why? Is that wrong?”

“I’m so sorr y, Detective,” said the law yer. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend.”

“No offense taken,” said Ramirez.

“Come on, Kyle,” said the lawyer, “let’s get the hell out of here.”

Ramirez stood as Kyle Byrne and his cheeky lawyer headed out of the room. Henderson had watched the whole thing with evident amusement.

“You sure broke him into little pieces,” said Henderson when Byrne and his lawyer had left and the door was closed behind them. “But putting your hand on his, that was good. Just think how far you would have gotten if you meant it.”

“He’s lying about how he got into that office,” said Ramirez.

“Of course he’s lying.”

“And how did this Katie Shin even know he was here?”

“Talbott, Kittredge and Chase. A bit high-toned for an unemployed slacker accused of burglary.”

Ramirez picked up the card. “ ‘Katie Shin,’ ” she read. “ ‘Tax department.’ ”

Henderson laughed. “A friend.”

“Or a girlfriend.”

“Maybe, but a friend who was called by someone other than our boy. Which means Kyle Byrne wasn’t alone in that office. Somebody picked the lock for him. Maybe the other guy was waiting outside after he opened the door. Maybe he was inside and our uniforms missed him. Or maybe it was Katie Shin herself. But it doesn’t matter, the kid won’t talk to us anymore.”