Five more minutes of chatting with Suzanne didn’t yield any more useful information, and after a promise that we’d try to get together to talk over old times—along with Tammy and a few others—I left. The happy guy at the front counter gave me a big smile and a wiggly finger wave as I pushed through the glass doors.

I walked through the main hall of Government Center and pulled out my cell phone. Called information and got the listing for Dr. Brock, Lev’s dentist. Punched in his number. I felt like a worm for checking up on him, but I needed to be sure.

“Hello, Dr. Brock’s office. Can you hold?” An officious voice switched me over to Muzak without even waiting for my reply. I reached the center of the building, a five-story atrium, and leaned over a railing overlooking a small amphitheater. Tall windows rose beyond the stage, and the grassy field behind the building was white. The snow was still falling, just as heavily as it had been earlier.

“Dr. Brock’s office. How may I help you?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. This is Daniel Yurishenko, Lev’s son. He was in a few weeks ago, and I was double-checking what day that was. I think it was December 22. In the morning. Am I remembering it correctly?”

“Please hold.” No questions. Too busy for questions.

A group of workers, ID badges dangling from their necks, passed by, talking about the weather. As I remembered from when I was a boy, there was always an extra buzz in the air whenever a big snow was predicted. Brought back memories. We didn’t get much snow in the Bay Area.

The receptionist returned to the line. “Yes, Mr. Yurishenko. Your father was here that morning. Is there a problem?”

“Oh no. No problem. Thanks so much.” I clicked off, trying to assimilate the information. It seemed obvious that Kassian lied about seeing Lev that morning. A mini-movie of Kassian kicking in the window and wrecking his own photo played in my mind. I saw him cowering in his chair, acting like he’d seen the devil. Was that all it was, acting? Could he have gone to such great lengths to try to frame Lev? Seemed improbable to me, and it begged the question, why? What would he have to gain?

My stomach soured. If Lev was right and Kassian had killed my father, then Kassian would have plenty to gain by framing Lev. It didn’t seem to matter which road I headed down, Kassian was at the end of every one of them. Maybe I should have listened to Lev from the beginning instead of relying on my gut.

I needed to talk to Kassian.

Traffic was heavier than normal because of the snow—both inches of it. Drivers crawled along, some putting their flashers on as if they were hauling toxic waste. If we were in Buffalo or Sioux Falls, no one would think twice about the weather. But this was Washington, where people went into a tizzy over the slightest dusting, descending on the grocery stores for milk and toilet paper the second a weather forecaster uttered the words “possible accumulation.”

The fifteen-minute drive had stretched into forty, but when I got to the Hebrew Home at least I didn’t have any trouble parking. The lot had emptied, friends and relatives deciding to cut short their visits and get home before the roads worsened.

I logged in at the front desk and the hairy guy from last week asked for my ID. I glared at him and handed it over, and he inspected it for ten full seconds. “Okay,” he said, “you may enter.”

“Thanks. Is there a listing of today’s activities?”

“Sure,” he said, staring at me.

Games, games, games, everybody plays them. “Where is it?” I asked, trying to keep my frustration at bay.

“Over there. On the board.” He jerked his thumb at a bulletin board on the wall.

“Thanks.” I started for it.

“Won’t do you any good, though. We’ve cancelled all non-essential activities.”

I stopped and faced him.

“The weather, you know. It’s snowing.” He winked at me and returned to some paperwork.

I checked the activity schedule anyway and headed back to the library where a book talk had been listed for 3:00. It was about 3:20 now, so I figured it still should be going on, unless they were discussing a picture book. When I opened the heavy wood doors, the library was empty. I guess book discussions weren’t essential, after all.

After the library, I checked the card room, the cafeteria, the TV lounge, and the exercise room, although I was pretty sure I wouldn’t find Kassian there. He wasn’t in the gift shop or the vending area or in the non-denominational chapel, decorated equitably with a Star of David and a cross. I wondered if Muslims felt left out.

I returned to the front desk. The hairy guy didn’t look up, even though I was sure he knew I was there. More games. “Excuse me. Could you page DeRon Woodson please?”

He lifted his head, gave me a “surprised to see you” look, and said, “Sure.” He picked up his phone and called for DeRon. Then he handed the phone to me.

“Hello?” I said.

The hairy guy said, “He’s not on yet. Give him a few minutes, sheesh.” He shook his head as he busied himself again shuffling papers.

I waited for a few minutes and no one picked up. “Excuse me. Are you sure you paged him? He hasn’t answered yet.”

The hairy guy didn’t get up from his chair. “What? You think he’s just sitting around waiting for your call? I’m sure he’s busy. Give him a break. He’ll get to you.”

Two minutes later, DeRon picked up. “This is DeRon.”

“Hey DeRon. This is Josh Handleman. Do you know where Kassian is? I’ve looked everywhere.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Did you try the TV room?”

“Yes. He wasn’t there.”

“Well, that’s where I saw him last. About an hour, hour and a half ago. Gave him a box of Junior Mints and set up a movie for him to watch with about five other folks. Then I got called to help with a patient, then another patient vomited all over the hallway, and … well, I’ve been pretty busy.” He paused. “I’ll be down in a minute, help you look. Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

I handed the phone back to the hairy guy and grabbed a seat in the lobby. DeRon arrived a few minutes later. “Come on, let’s take a look around,” he said.

DeRon and I retraced my earlier rounds with no luck. No sign of Kassian, and the few people DeRon questioned hadn’t seen him either. “Any secret hiding places around here?” I asked, hoping DeRon had been holding out on me.

He shook his head. “Nope. Mr. Kassian isn’t here. He must have left.” DeRon gazed out the front window. “Not a good time to be out wandering around. Hope he went straight home.”

“Hope so.” I pictured Kassian trudging through the snow, barely able to stay upright in the wind. At least I’d persuaded him to wear his winter coat. “I better go after him.”

DeRon caught me by my arm. “Good luck, Josh. If I spot him here, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” I hustled out the front door, not even bothering to sign out on the visitor’s log. Take that, hairy guy.

When I got outside, I huddled against the wall for a moment, mentally outlining my course of action. Kassian’s most likely destination had to be the house. I figured it was about a three-mile hike; in normal conditions it might take him an hour or less. In a blizzard, who knew?

If I’d just missed him, he’d still be on the path and I could track him down and catch him, before he froze to death or got blown into a ditch or just got disoriented and lost. He’d had plenty of experience surviving the elements when he lived on the streets, but I don’t think he grew up in Siberia.

Of course, if he’d left an hour and a half ago, he might already be at the house. I pulled out my phone and called home, but I knew it would be fruitless as I hit the last digit—Kassian never picked up the phone. It rang and rang before the call rolled into my father’s voicemail. “Hello. I’m sorry I missed your call. Please leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. And have a great, great day.” My father’s voice, speaking to me from beyond the grave. Telling me to have a great, great day. I felt my knees start to wobble and I braced myself against the brick wall. Why hadn’t I listened all those times he’d told me in person to have a great day? Why had I been so preoccupied with myself, with being independent, that I couldn’t take what he’d been offering? Why had I been such a know-it-all?

I pushed away from the wall. My father took Kassian in, looked after him. Now it fell to me. I decided to leave my car in the lot and take off after him on foot.

Thankfully, I was wearing my father’s parka. I cinched up the fur-lined hood and secured my gloves. Set off around the side of the building where I would connect with a side street leading to the trail access point. I walked as quickly as I could without losing my footing. The wind whipped the falling snow into a frenzy, nipping at the exposed part of my face. I trundled along, keeping my head down, looking up every twenty seconds or so trying to spot Kassian.

I seemed to be the only pedestrian out for a stroll today.

Across the street, at the edge of the woods, a sign marked the trailhead. I looked back at the Hebrew Home and was dismayed by how little ground I’d covered. I could have sworn I’d gone half a mile already, when in fact I’d only gone a couple hundred yards. On the main road on the other side of the home, I saw a few vehicles making their way on the snow-dusted streets, which gave me hope that conditions might not be too bad.

I entered the woods on the path, and the windbreak provided by the trees tempered the wind from gale force to something more bearable. But it still roared in my ears, like a leaf blower gone berserk—even through my thick hood. I realized I wouldn’t be able to hear my cell phone in my pocket if DeRon called, so I stopped for a minute and dug it out of my inside coat pocket. I removed a glove and quickly turned up the ringer volume to the max and set it to vibrate as well. Then I slipped the phone into the front pocket of my jeans. Didn’t want to take any chances of missing the call. I allowed myself a small smile as I put my glove back on. Is that your crotch ringing, or are you just happy to see me?

I set off again, trying to keep my head up as best I could so I could follow the abrupt twists and turns of the trail—and avoid bashing into any tree trunks—but I had to maintain a constant squint against the blowing snow. The canopy of trees provided some cover, but most of the taller ones were bare and the snow eventually filtered its way down to the ground.

Along the way, I searched for size six footprints. The blowing and drifting snow made it impossible for me to make out much of anything. As soon as I left a footprint, the wind whisked it away. I plowed on in search of Kassian.

I figured I was about halfway home when I felt a buzzing on my thigh. I grabbed off a glove and yanked out my phone. Flipped it open and tucked it inside my hood, pressed onto my ear. “Hello?” I shouted.

“Hello? Josh?”

It was a woman’s voice, but I could barely hear it. “Who is this? Rachel?”

“Yes.” She shouted back, and I shifted positions until I could hear her better. “Where are you? I saw your car in the parking lot.”

“What do you mean? Where are you?” I asked.

“At the Hebrew Home. Visiting Nana.”

“In this weather? Are you crazy?” I slipped the glove back on my exposed hand.

The wind abated for a moment, and I could hear her laugh, as if I were standing right next to her. “I went to Cornell. This is nothing.”

“You drove in your Prius?” I moved closer to a large tree trunk and leaned my head against it.

“I’m not that stupid. It was Tammy’s night to visit Nana, so I traded with her. And I took her Land Rover. Actually, the roads aren’t too bad yet. The more chicken drivers that stay home, the easier it is for the rest of us.” She laughed again. “Where are you?”

“I’m traipsing through the woods looking for Kassian.”

“What?”

“He’s missing, and I think he might have headed home. On the paths.”

“Oh no, Josh. What can I do to help? I’m pretty good in the woods, too.”

“Thanks, but I can handle it. Listen, if you see him there, you know, wandering the halls, give me a call, okay?” I didn’t want to drag her into my michigas. “Be very careful driving, okay?”

“I plan to. And you be careful out in the woods. Let me know when you find him. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and put the phone back in my pants pocket. Continued down the path, hands jammed into my parka for warmth.

Twenty minutes later, I approached the house. Ran the last forty yards and let myself in through Kassian’s door, gasping for breath. “Kassian? You here?”

Silence was the answer I dreaded.

Silence was the answer I got.