“Why?”

“These days, it’ll be their easiest way to connect if there’s a ransom.”

I left the doorjamb and sat down with Kinjo. I realized I had left on my Brooklyn Dodgers cap and removed it. “They want to wait a bit. Make you sweat.”

Kinjo nodded. I turned back to Lundquist.

“I’ll talk to numb-nuts about the press,” Lundquist said. “We don’t want this broadcast on sports talk. But, shit, look at the circus outside. How long do you think we can keep a lid on it?”

“Not sure,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe five minutes?”

11

I found Z leaning against the hood of my Ford Explorer. He was wearing Oakley sunglasses like an outfielder and staring down the hill to the Heywood mansion. I walked up to meet him.

“I need you to go back to the health club,” I said. “Find Hawk. Tell him to hang loose. I may need him, too.”

“Is Hawk good at hanging loose?”

“Not very.”

“And me?”

“You stick close to Hawk,” I said. “I’ll call if I need you. Right now I’ll stay here and wait.”

“What’d they say?”

“Lundquist thinks we’re waiting for a ransom,” I said. “Staties are wiring the house for a phone call or e-mail messages.”

Z nodded.

“Revenge?”

“Don’t know,” I said. “Some people in New York that I may have to meet. Other than that, it could really be anything or anyone.”

Z nodded. “A man with a ten-million-dollar contract makes for a good target.”

“You came close to that life,” I said.

“One season away,” Z said. “But one season at that level is forever.”

“And you’d never have met me,” I said. “Potential as a crime buster untapped.”

“They okay inside?”

“Nope,” I said. “A lot of crying and worrying and general shock. Kinjo is trying to make sense of things while trying to calm down Cristal. Cristal is a mess.”

I handed Z the keys to the Explorer.

“How will you get back?”

“I’ll get one of the cops to drive me,” I said. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“I hope it is a kidnapping,” Z said. “I hope all they want is money. At least that’s something.”

The first leaves of fall left their branches and twirled about. Smoke drifted from chimneys along the street as the day grew colder. The road was crooked and never-ending down the hill.

12

Where the hell is my son?” Nicole Heywood said.

The three cops guarding the front door had not been able to restrain her. Nor the maid or Ray Heywood or Detective Lieutenant Lundquist. Even super-agent Steve Rosen could not buffer his client. She was shaking and breathing hard, pumped full of anger and adrenaline.

Kinjo didn’t answer. He sat at a long glass kitchen table, head in hand. His head dropped even more upon her entry. The kitchen was very large and lined with white tile, making everything sound hollow. Nicole stood, hands on hips, shaking and ready to pounce on Kinjo or anyone who got in her way. I hung back.

The two detectives in front of laptop computers stared intently at their screens.

Lundquist looked to me. And I back at Lundquist.

“Can we talk outside?” Lundquist said. “We’re waiting on a call, ma’am.”

“Hell, no,” Nicole said. “Tell me. You tell me, Kinjo. I want to hear what happened from his father.”

“He’s gone,” Heywood said. “I told you. Some men took him as he was on his way to school. We don’t know why.”

“Why the hell would someone take Akira?” she said. “You better tell me right now what’s going on. What the hell did you do now? You just handed over your child?”

“Wasn’t him,” I said. “And they had guns.”

She turned to me, folding her arms over her chest, and stared me down. “Who?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kinjo said. “They got him. Whoever got him gonna call and I’ll pay them and this will all go away.”

“Damn right it matters.” Nicole put a hand to her mouth and fell to her knees. “Where is that goddamn bitch? I knew she did this. I knew it. What happens when you bring trash into your house.”

I helped her to her feet. She squirmed, trying to run for the door, my arms around her. I loosened my grip, and she slammed an elbow in my stomach and ran for the living room, where Cristal sat watching the news. Cristal looked up and cowered as Nicole launched herself from the doorway. She looked like she could tear Cristal to pieces. I finally caught her, wrapping her in a bear hug and sweeping her out of the room. She turned into me and clawed at my face, let out an unholy scream, and seemed to collapse on herself. Kinjo grabbed her and held her close, pleading to her in a soft, intimate voice. “Baby, we’re doing all we can. We got to be calm. Think of him.”

Lundquist handed me a handkerchief and I dabbed the blood from my face. Rosen helped Nicole to a chair.

The two detectives continued to watch their screens. Nothing to see here. All is well.

“Be calm?” Nicole said. She tried to act strong, but there was a breathless fear in her voice. “I try and leave the bank and two cops show up. They won’t let me. They want to talk, want to know had I heard from my son. Did I know anyone who would want to do him harm? Was I in a good place with my ex-husband? All the while, nobody telling me anything. Not you. Not the cops. Everyone wants me to calm down. Be cool.”

“I got some pills,” Rosen said.

“Fuck your pills, Steve,” she said.

I stood at the kitchen counter. It was a nice kitchen. Lots of chrome and marble and gleaming stainless steel. The refrigerator would have filled half my apartment. I ran my handkerchief under the faucet and wiped my face.

“At this point, we don’t know anything,” Lundquist said. “We’re treating it as a kidnapping and waiting to hear from the kidnappers. We are tapping both the main line here and Mr. Heywood’s two cell phones. We’d like to include your number as well, just in case they reach out to you.”

Nicole reached into her purse and threw a cell phone onto the glass table with a thunk. One of the laptop cops picked up the phone and tapped away on his keyboard.

“Why?”

Kinjo did not answer.

“Why?”

Kinjo did not answer.

“I swear to Christ if she did something that caused this,” she said. “I swear I’ll come after her. I’ll kill her.”

Lundquist lifted his eyes to me. I showed him the bloody handkerchief and nodded in agreement.

“What if they don’t call?” Nicole said.

“They will call,” Kinjo said.

“If they want money,” Lundquist said, “we’ll hear from them.”

Nicole turned her eyes to Kinjo. She held the stare until he looked up.

Cristal entered the room. Nicole did not turn her head, only held up her hand. “If you know what’s good for you,” she said, “you better get gone.”

“I want to help.”

“Do I stutter?” she said. “Get.”

“You’re blaming me?”

“Goddamn right I am,” Nicole said. “Funny how you the last one to see him. Nobody else around. You better take your fake tears and fake tits and get out of my damn face.”

Without a word, but lots of snuffling, Cristal turned on a tall golden heel and skittered away.

“You’ll pay, Kinjo,” she said. “You’ll pay every cent. Me and you both. Every cent to get him back.”

Kinjo nodded. Nicole began to cry. I wanted to place a hand on her shoulder but was concerned she might break it.

“Jesus Christ,” she said, moaning. “Jesus Christ.”

It was Kinjo who got down on one knee before her and held her hand. He was crying, too. Rosen sat down at the head of the table and started to text.

I walked outside to the back patio. The night had grown chilly. The old play fort looked big and skeletal and quiet as hell in the night. Lundquist came outside and closed the French doors behind him. He lit a cigarette.