part0053

Jake loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. The phone offered him a break. Geoffreys. “How was your Thanksgiving, Frank?” Jake said.

“Let’s skip the formalities, Jake.” Frank sounded serious. Then again, Frank always sounded serious. “Alan said you’re hindering the case.”

“Listen, Frank, things got a little heated, but–”

“Spare me the song and dance,” Geoffreys said. “I told you, Alan runs the show. You don’t like it, you’re out.”

“Frank, McCauley said he wanted me alone at the drop. Said he’d kill the kid if I’m not. And I believe he will.”

Frank cleared his throat. “Do you really believe that, Jake? He kills the kid, he loses his edge. And the money.”

“I’m not sure money is his main motivator.”

“Money is always the main motivator,” Frank said and cleared his throat, louder this time. “Besides,” Frank added, “these guys are pros. He’ll never even know they’re there.”

Jake shook his head. “He’ll know, Frank. I say I go alone. Let the tracking device in the bag lead us to him, and the boy. We’ll just have to pray he’s still alive when we find him.”

No more throat clearing. Only silence. A good sign. It meant Frank was thinking about it. Finally, he said: “Sorry, Jake. No can do. We’re talking about a mall filled with innocent civilians. If something goes wrong, I need to know we did everything we could to ensure the public’s safety.”

“What about Ben McCauley’s safety?”

“Trust me, Jake. Our men will be so inconspicuous, I’d challenge you to spot them.” The frog hopped back into his throat. “That’s where we stand. Are you in or out?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then Gil Burrows will make the drop.”

“Burrows? That jackass could play all Three Stooges at the same time. You send him out, you may as well start digging a hole for the McCauley kid.”

“Then I guess you’d better be there,” Frank said. “I’ll touch base with you in the morning. Hope you had a nice Thanksgiving.” Click.

“You too, Frank,” Jake said to dead air. He hung up the phone, plodded up the stairs. He stripped down to his boxers and fell heavily onto the bed. It winced beneath him, cursed him for the extra pounds he’d put on. He stared at the ceiling for a long time.

He thought about something he had said to Frank. About money not being the motivator. His gut told him he was right. Martin McCauley had one mission. To destroy his brother’s life by destroying all that he held dear. His wife. His kids. His friends.

If it was only about the money, why let them know his true identity? Why not just play the role of random kidnapper, collect his cash, and run off to the Virgin Islands?

No. This was not about the money at all. And that thought scared the hell out of Jake. It meant Ben McCauley was as good as dead.

The old mahogany clock Sheila had purchased on her final antiquing jaunt chimed. Jake instinctively counted the number of chimes to see if just once the old ticker missed a beat. On the tenth chime–right again –the room fell silent. Jake scrolled through his cell, found his partner’s name, and pressed on it.

“Kyle, it’s me. I need you to meet me in twenty minutes.”

“Jake, it’s Thanksgiving. Gimme a break.”

“You stuffed your face. You fell asleep watching football. You did your part. Thanksgiving’s over, partner.”

A woman’s voice, too faint to make out. “Jake, I have company,” Kyle whispered.

“Well, lover boy, if she cares about you, she’ll wait. This is important. I need to check out a hunch on the McCauley kid and I need backup.”

Groaning, followed by heavy breathing. “You and your hunches. Jake, this isn’t your case,” Kyle said, clearly fighting off the attacking lips of his latest conquest.

One more notch in that bedpost and you’ll be sleeping on the floor.

“What does Weeks think of this?” Kyle said.

This time it was Jake who groaned. “Weeks doesn’t know.”

“What? Jake, Geoffreys will string you up by your–babe, gimme a second–by your balls if he knows you’re sneaking behind Weeks’s back.”

Geoffreys would do more than that. When he was finished, he’d serve them up to Jake with a big fat helping of desk duty. But first, it was time to serve his partner up a big fat helping of guilt. “Kyle, if you don’t want to help, I’ll go it alone. Just a kid’s life at stake. No big deal. Go back to your Flavor of the Month.”

“Hey, watch it, Jake–”

“What did he call me–?”

“Nothing babe–Jake, I’m not falling for your–no, babe, he wasn’t talking about you–Jake, you can kiss my ass–”

Time to finish him off. “Okay, partner. Thanks for nothing. Gotta go.”