LITMIR.BIZ

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underfoot,” he added as he sat again.

      He envied Ake and Sue their solid marriage, their kids. Maybe tonight more than at other times. He rubbed the grit from his eyes. “Or does Sue think I need some cheering up?” Recently, Sue and Stephanie had been getting together for lunch or a movie, so Ake’s wife probably knew about Stephanie.

      There was a hesitation on the opposite end of the line.

      “Hey, Ake. I’m okay.”

      “I was sorry to hear about Stephanie’s decision, but that’s not why I’m calling. I almost wish it was.”

      “What do you mean?”

      Ake didn’t answer him, and at the continued silence, the muscles between Nick’s shoulder blades bunched. “Ake? Sue’s okay, right? The boys, too?”

      “They’re fine. You alone?”

      “Yeah. Why?”

      “Does the name Kelly Logan mean anything to you?”

      His hand clenching the phone, Nick straightened. He hadn’t heard the name in more than six years. Except in his own head. The case, the woman, were some of his biggest regrets. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he knew he’d see her there.

      “You investigated her back in ninety-six.” Ake prompted, obviously thinking his silence was due to his inability to place the case. “Princeton Air.”

      “I recall the investigation. It was one of my first cases,” Nick said. “We got a tip a small cargo airline was moving weapons for the Irish Republican Army. I went in undercover.”

      Ake picked up where he stopped. “The father committed suicide before he could be taken into custody. Both the girl and Aidan Gallagher, a known IRA sympathizer, walked.”

      “Couldn’t be helped,” he said. “We had nothing to tie them directly to the guns. The only material witness, a courier, was dead before we could get to him, and the only prints found on the weapons were the father’s.”

      “And just two of the crates were recovered,” Ake said.

      “That’s right.”

      “The report I’m reading says Aidan and the Logans were friends, that he claimed his appearance in their home was innocent.”

      “And there was no evidence to suggest otherwise. The Logan girl even called him uncle.” Nick reached over and switched on the desk lamp.

      “Not a casual friend, then?”

      “No. If I remember the story right, John Logan and Aidan grew up in the same Belfast neighborhood. Several months earlier, the old neighborhood had been ripped apart by a couple of bombs. John’s sister was one of the ones killed.” He recalled John telling him the story, the tears in the Irishman’s eyes. Nick had never been an IRA sympathizer, but, in that moment, he had certainly been an empathizer.

      “Why all the questions, Ake? Most of what you’ve asked so far must be in the report sitting in front of you.”

      “What do you know about Benito Binelli?” Ake continued.

      With the question, the headache thrumming just below the surface, perhaps for hours, mushroomed, an atomic bomb going off at the base of Nick’s skull.

      He massaged the stress-tightened muscles. “Businessman. Scum. Has a team of lawyers to keep him out of jail.”

      “What would you say if I told you there’s evidence Kelly Logan’s in bed with him?”

      Nick’s fingers tightened on the handset again. “What would I say?” He came up with numerous possibilities. Most of which he was unwilling to voice. “I’d say he’s a little old for her,” he said, though they both knew Ake had meant in bed figuratively.

      From all accounts, Benito Binelli appeared a happily married man with two teenage daughters. Currently, his only vices were the selling of illegal drugs and the occasional murder when someone was foolish enough to get in the way of business.

      “Where are you going with this, Ake? Are you guys working Binelli now?”

      “Yeah.” After another brief pause, Ake picked his words carefully. “This isn’t an official call. It’s strictly one friend asking another for an opinion. It’s important that it doesn’t go any farther. At least for now.”

      “Sure.” He stood to look out the window again. “Whatever you say.”

      “Kelly Logan’s name came up in several of the reports. As background, I read over the file on Princeton Air.” Ake hesitated again. “There’re some unusual similarities between the two investigations.”

      “Unusual? In what way?” Nick asked.

      “I rather you look at it for yourself. I may just be seeing spooks where none exist.”

      It was an odd choice of words. “Okay,” he said, his tone cautious. “Do you want to meet? I could use some dinner.”

      Someone tapped at his closed door. He’d thought himself alone in the suite of offices. Myron poked his head in.

      Realizing Nick was on the phone, the resident agent in charge offered a small salute, but remained mute. Nick noticed the strain around the other man’s eyes.

      “Myron just—”

      Ake broke in. “Watch what you say.”

      Nick’s gaze dropped away, and he reached for the empty coffee cup on the edge of his desk. “Okay. What do you propose?”

      “We need to talk. Tonight. Alone.” Ake suggested the top level of a nearby parking garage.

      “I’ll see you there in five.” Nick replaced the receiver just as Myron dropped into the chair in front of the desk.

      “Who was that on the phone?”

      “Old college friend,” Nick offered. “Wants to meet for a beer.” He pulled his holstered weapon out of the top drawer and slipped it on. “Did you need something?” he asked when Myron made no move to stand.

      “No. I was just finishing up and saw your light on. Thought we could catch a sandwich.” He rubbed his knees. “Maybe another night.”

      “Sounds good.” Nick said. “Everything okay with you?”

      “Sure.” With a forced smile and a soft grunt, Myron pushed stiffly to his feet. His shoulders sagged. “I guess I’m just restless. It’s been a year today, and I still don’t know what to do with myself. Pathetic, isn’t it? I feel like a lost pup scratching at the back door of a dark house.”

      The previous July, Myron had buried his wife of thirty-four years. Nick hated seeing the pain in the other man’s eyes. Myron was more of a father to him than his own had been, and still he didn’t know what to say. So he said nothing. And regretted it.

      “If you’re on your way out, I’ll walk down with you,” he offered.

      Myron opened the door. “I just need to stop by my office and make a quick call to my daughter.”

      When they reached Myron’s office, Nick stayed outside in the hall. After several moments, though, he found himself glancing down at his watch. He’d told Ake five minutes. Something had rattled the experienced FBI investigator. Nick reached in his pocket for the pack of cigarettes he carried. Instead of taking one, he glanced with uncertainity at the bank of elevators twenty-five feet away and considered going on ahead, but then he remembered the look in Myron’s eyes. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt. As he waited, he did his damndest to keep his mind away from Kelly Logan. Without success.

      He couldn’t say he was surprised to hear of a connection between Kelly and Benito. Disappointed, though. He’d always hoped he was wrong about her.

      He rested his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

      Why

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