MONDAY, NOVEMBER 13, PRESENT DAY
Russ was wiping down Ethan and his surroundings following lunch when he heard a knock on the kitchen door. He was still trying to figure out how, after he had personally shoveled the best part of a jar of organic lamb stew—which looked like cat food, although he wasn’t about to tell Clare that—into his son’s open mouth, there seemed to be another jar’s worth of food smeared on Ethan’s face, in his hair, across the high chair tray, and spattered on the floor. At least Oscar took care of that last part.
He wiped his hands on a dish towel and pulled the lacy curtain aside. Hadley Knox, in uniform. He unlocked and opened the door. “Hey. I’m surprised to see you in the middle of a shift. Is everything okay at the station?” He kicked himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Not my job anymore.
She stepped inside, bringing a gust of damp, cold air with her. “I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s the same, I guess?” She shuffled from foot to foot.
“You on your lunch break?” She nodded. “Take off your coat, then. Want a cup of coffee? It’s Clare’s fancy stuff, much better than anything you’ll get at the shop.”
“Thanks, I’m fine.” She peeled off her parka, but didn’t look any more relaxed.
He gave Ethan one last swipe and tossed the cloth into the sink. “What’s up?”
“It’s probably nothing. I don’t know.” She sat in one of the kitchen chairs and braced her hands on the table.
Russ unlatched the tray and pulled it away, then unbuckled Ethan. “Here.” He hoisted the infant up and out and handed him unceremoniously to Knox. She huffed a laugh. “I’ve noticed it’s hard to get too self-conscious when you’ve got a baby on your lap.” He sat across from her. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Flynn. Kevin.”
“Okay. Is it something about the lawsuit?” That was one facet of the job he was happy to leave behind.
She shook her head. “So, we were talking around Labor Day, after you had, you know, told us about the deal you cut. Just passing it on to Flynn. He told me he’d call me after the election. To see how everybody was, you know?”
Russ nodded.
“And I haven’t heard from him.” Knox folded her arms more closely around Ethan and dropped a kiss on his fuzzy head.
“It’s only been six days.”
“I know, Chief, but this is Kevin Flynn we’re talking about. He’s reliable. Old Faithful. If the geyser doesn’t come up, something’s wrong like Horton the Elephant. ‘He meant what he said, and he said what he meant.’”
“Have you tried reaching him?”
“His cell phone went straight to voice mail. His apartment phone, too.” Her cheeks pinked up a little. “I called his folks, they haven’t heard from him since the beginning of October.”
“He could still be undercover.” He hoped not, for Kevin’s sake. That sort of work, even when it wasn’t innately dangerous, wore hard on a person’s heart and mind. After his long stint over the summer, he ought to be riding a desk for a while, getting his equilibrium back.
“No. Or at least, not on the same investigation. He was pulled off back in September. I don’t know what he’s doing now, if he’s got another assignment, or he’s away on TDY, or what. That’s why I came to you.” She shifted Ethan to one side and leaned forward. “Chief, can you call the Syracuse PD? The brass will talk to you. You can find out the basics, even if they can’t tell you exactly what he’s up to.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not the MKPD chief anymore. I don’t have any authority to ask any questions.”
Her face took on a crafty look. “But they don’t know that yet, do they?”
Russ laughed a little. “You sound like my wife when you say that.”
“Please, Chief? I’m just … I’m worried. It really isn’t like him to say he’ll do something and then not.” An expression flashed across her face, too fast for Russ to decipher. “Most of the time,” she amended.
“All right.” What the hell. It was a little thing, to set Knox’s mind at ease. And if Syracuse brushed him off, well, he’d be getting a lot of that in the future, wouldn’t he? Might as well get used to it.
It only took a minute to find the number. Knox held Ethan while he waited for the connection. He stepped into the living room, in case the baby decided to get vocal while he was talking. Recruits were getting younger, but no one would believe his son was fresh out of the academy.
“This is Chief Russ Van Alstyne, from Millers Kill. Can you put me through to Chief Iacocca? Thank you.” One hoop through. The Syracuse chief picked up. “Ray? Russ Van Alstyne, from Millers Kill. I’m calling about one of my guys you hired away from me. Kevin Flynn.”
He listened to what Ray Iacocca had to say. He assured him everything was fine. He thanked him for his time. He hung up. He walked back into the kitchen.
“What did they say? Did you get through? Was there a problem?”
“No. As far as they’re concerned, I’m still heading up the force here.” He reached for Ethan, and Knox surrendered the baby to him.
“So what did they say? Is he working undercover?”
He held his son tight against his heart. “Kevin went out on unpaid personal leave almost a month ago. He said there was a family emergency.”
Knox stood up. “But I called his family.”
“I know.”
“I mean…” She pressed her hands against her face. “Even if they knew about the, you know, my past and the tapes and everything. Even if they knew, I think they’d say ‘Kevin doesn’t want to talk to you’ or something. They wouldn’t lie about not speaking to him.”
“No, I don’t think they would.”
“Then where is he? A person just doesn’t just vanish.”
But of course, they did. He thought of Carmella Marino, who had died nameless and unknown and remained that way for over fifty years. There were cold cases all over the country whose victims were only known by a number.
“He was worried about the lawsuit,” Knox whispered. “He asked me if it might have been the reason why the board pressured you to resign … Oh, God, you don’t think he—”
“No.” His voice was firm. “I don’t.”
“Then where’s Flynn, Chief? Where is he?”
Russ shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know, Knox. I don’t know.”