Nine

25

Manhattan Beach, California

Tuesday, May 20, 11:25 P.M.

Alex had nearly reached home when his pager went off again. He called in and was patched through to a detective with the Albuquerque police, whose department had made some promising discoveries. “Eric Grady” had been there. They were dusting for prints in a Bronco, a pickup truck, and an abandoned rental car, and already had some from a home that had been ransacked before the Bronco was stolen. They didn’t have a matching record of an Eric Grady as a passenger arriving on a flight for the day the car was first rented, and assumed another identity had been used for purchasing the airline ticket.

As for the prints, they hadn’t found a match in New Mexico’s Automated Fingerprint Identification System-AFIS-files, but were sending copies of the prints on to the LASD. There was a computer compatibility issue. One of the frustrations Alex and everyone else in law enforcement faced was that AFIS and other computer technologies varied from state to state, and the systems were often incompatible.

The better news was that the man posing as Grady had left opened water bottles, half-eaten sandwiches, and-strangely-wads of several varieties of chewing gum. “We’ll have lots of DNA samples, and dental impressions, too,” the detective said. “We’ll send most of them to you, but the FBI has asked for some, too.”

Alex thanked him and called Hamilton.

“Great, isn’t it?” the FBI agent said. “I just got word from our field office there. I’m going to ask our guys to rush the DNA work and to run it through CODIS.”

“Sure, why not?” Alex said. If the gum chewer in New Mexico had ever been convicted of rape, assault, homicide, or certain other felonies, his DNA might be in the FBI’s CODIS-Combined DNA Index System-database.

“You don’t sound enthusiastic. Do you have a problem with using CODIS?”

“Not at all-I hope we get a hit. But I suspect this guy has managed to stay below the radar, that’s all.”

“Committing crimes of this nature without ever having any prior trouble with law enforcement?” Hamilton asked skeptically.

“Trouble, maybe-but caught for violent crimes? I don’t know. You have profilers working on these cases?”

“They’re just getting started.”

“Like I say, I hope I’m wrong. If these cases are starting to go better than they have been, there won’t be any complaint from me.”

Hamilton laughed. “No kidding. See you tomorrow.”

“One other thing,” he said. “We may have some DNA from the scene at the cliff this evening.”

After what seemed like a long silence, Hamilton said, “Oh? I don’t remember hearing that mentioned.”

“That was my call. Things are touchy right now. Especially where lab work is involved.”

There was another long pause, then the agent said, “Sure, I understand. Thanks for letting me know now.”

Alex hung up, feeling dissatisfied. He had probably managed to piss off both the FBI and his own department. But if there was DNA in New Mexico that might compare with what was found on the rope, he wasn’t going to be the one who stood in the way of making the comparison, even if the FBI claimed these as federal cases because of it.

The flickering blue-gray light beyond the blinds told him that John was probably still awake and watching television. Maybe Chase would be, too. He hadn’t meant to keep the kid waiting this long.

He walked into the house and saw that John was talking on a cell phone. Chase stood next to him, looking anxious. The television set was muted. Alex clicked it off.

“That’s not true,” John said to the caller, seeming exasperated. He saw Alex, rolled his eyes, and said again into the phone, “That’s not true.”

Alex said quietly to Chase, “Who is it?”

But before Chase could answer, John said, “I’ll tell you what, Miles. You want to start insisting on setting down conditions for Chase to visit me, then let me give you a few about leaving a minor…What? Yes, he just walked in, but this is between you and me, boy.”

Alex saw John’s face turn red. Alex was surprised-John wasn’t a man who angered easily. In the next moment, he thrust the phone toward Alex.

Alex smiled, took it, and said, “Miles?”

“Alex? I don’t know what you’re up to, but-”

“Miles? Miles? Hello?”

“Hello, Alex?”

“Must have hung up,” he said to Chase and John, who could hear Miles shouting even as Alex pushed the disconnect button.

John started laughing. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Alex closed the phone and took the battery off. He handed the two pieces to Chase, who was staring at him in amazement.

“Chase, think you’ll be able to get that phone to work again before tomorrow?”

“No, sir,” Chase said, smiling.

“Good. What did you two have for dinner?”

“Uncle John made steaks. He’s got one marinating for you, too.”

Alex turned to John. “Thoughtful of you. This day may turn out all right after all.”

“Take a load off,” John said. “I’ll get dinner together for you. And don’t fret-I’ve been staying off my feet.”

“He has,” Chase said. “Besides, I’ll help him.”

“Okay,” Alex said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He changed into jeans and a T-shirt and joined them in the kitchen. As he sat at the table, Chase brought him a beer.

“Thanks. You aren’t drinking these, are you?”

“No-Uncle John would never let me drink your beer.”

“Diplomatically answered,” John said with a grin.

Chase laughed. “Hey-we saw you on TV!”

“Out on the Peninsula?” Alex said. “Yes, that’s why I’m so late.”

“You have another morning meeting with the sheriff?” John asked.

Alex nodded. “Probably will have every couple of days, until this is settled.”

“That figures. Unlike what you usually investigate, these aren’t run-of-the-mill population adjustments.”

Alex smiled. “True.” But not wanting to talk shop, he turned to Chase. “So fill me in on your news. What’s the problem with your dad?”

He shrugged.

Alex took a few sips of beer, watching him.

“He’s mad because I came down here.”

“To my house.”

“I guess so. It’s so dumb.”

John opened the broiler and turned the steak over. “You need to talk to your dad about it, Chase. Alex has had a long day, and he doesn’t need to be hassled about family matters.”

“He’s not hassling me,” Alex said.

John shot him a look.

“I know what he means,” Chase said. “Uncle John wants to talk about it when I’m not listening in. It’s okay.”

“Oh for pity’s sake,” John said.

Chase went to the freezer and took out a package of mixed frozen vegetables. As he opened it, he said, “I just want you to know-well, I know. I didn’t know last time, but now I know.”

Alex paused in the act of lifting the beer to his mouth. “You know what?” he asked warily.

Chase put some of the vegetables in a bowl, added a small amount of water, covered the bowl with plastic wrap, and set it in the microwave. He started the oven and, without looking at Alex, said, “That you and my mom used to be married.”

Alex put the beer down. His appetite left him.

John frowned. “Where’d you come by that little piece of news?”

“My mom told me-the night Uncle Alex took me home.” He was still staring at the microwave.

“That bother you?” Alex asked.

He shook his head.

“Funny, it looks as if it does.”

Chase looked at him. “It doesn’t bother me about you.”

“But?”

“It does about her.” He caught a glimpse of John’s face and said defensively, “I haven’t said anything disrespectful.”

“No,” John said. “But you seem to forget that I can read your mind.”

“One of his most annoying habits,” Alex said.

Chase shrugged. “I just wanted you to know that I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“Why you didn’t come over. Why I never met you. Before-I thought maybe you didn’t like kids or something. My mom said-she said that you and my dad weren’t so comfortable around each other, because a few months after she divorced you, she started dating my dad.”

Alex took a drink of beer. He could feel John’s eyes on him, but he avoided looking at him. He said, “Your mom was right about the awkwardness, but as your uncle John will be pleased to tell you, I was a damned fool to let that keep me from meeting you.”

He heard Chase let out a sigh of relief. The microwave beeped.

John took the steak from the broiler, then Chase loaded the vegetables on the plate and carried it to Alex. They sat down on either side of him.

“Thanks,” Alex said, realizing that his appetite had returned in full force.

Chase and John made small talk to allow Alex time to eat. Most of this consisted of Chase asking John about his time training with Special Forces. Alex noticed that John was much more open with Chase about his experiences than he had been with Alex and Miles-perhaps because John had been in the role of a parent to them, or perhaps because it was then too close to the experience.

When Alex was nearly finished eating, Chase asked, “You want to come out to the range with us this weekend?”

“Do some shooting? Sure, if I can get time off. But that’s not looking likely at the moment.”

He saw the flash of disappointment, but Chase said, “Sure. No pressure. It would just be fun if you could.”

“Your dad teach you to shoot?”

“No, Uncle John. My dad doesn’t practice anymore. Uncle John said he used to be good at it.”

“Better than me.”

“Not these days,” John said. “Chase is quite a marksman himself.”

Alex watched the boy blush but could see that he was also pleased.

“At first,” Chase said, “I was scared of guns.”

“Never hurts to maintain a healthy respect for them,” said John.

“I shook so bad the first time I held one in my hand,” Alex said, “John almost gave up on me.”

“Now, that is untrue,” John said. “I had remarkable patience.”

Alex smiled. “I closed my eyes every time I pulled the trigger. Makes it tough to aim.”

Chase laughed. “How old were you?”

“About your age.”

“My age? But…” He frowned at John. “Wasn’t that kind of mean?”

Alex found himself oddly touched by Chase’s concern. “Because of the way your grandfather died? At the time, I thought your uncle John was being terribly mean.”

“You two always thought I was being mean to you,” John said.

“We’d whine that he was meaner than any of our friends’ parents,” Alex confided to Chase, “and he’d tell us that he sure as hell hoped so, because he’d met our friends.”

John and Alex laughed, as Chase looked between them.

“Years after he took me out to the range,” Alex said, “I realized that he had helped me to get over a fear that I might have carried with me all my life. He didn’t teach me because he thought that I’d need to be able to shoot a gun-he taught me because I needed to get over that fear, or it would have been something that stood in my way forever.”

They stayed up talking about those years Alex had lived with John. Not so many years, Alex realized now, but John had been a greater influence-more of a father to him-in those few years than his dad had been in fourteen as an absentee parent.

Alex gave Chase his bed to sleep in, over the boy’s protests. Alex took his alarm clock and a pillow, then grabbed a spare blanket. He settled in on the big leather couch but lay awake, his thoughts moving between the cases and Chase, and in the moments when he failed to turn them to other subjects, to Clarissa and Miles.

He heard John move into the room.

“Trouble sleeping?” Alex asked.

“No, not really.” He sat down in a nearby chair. After a moment, he said, “That first time I took you shooting, I was damned proud of you.”

Alex grinned. “Oh, I’m sure that was one of your more memorable days on the range. I remember the range master asking if you wanted your virgin paper targets back.”

John smiled. “He was an old friend, just giving me some shit.”

“Miles approve of you teaching Chase?”

John frowned. “Miles had weapons in the house and hadn’t taken the boy to any gun safety courses. I gave him so much hell over that, he didn’t dare try to prevent me from taking Chase out to the range.”

“Miles doesn’t secure his guns?”

“Oh yes. Fancy-pants gun safe. You aren’t going to sit here and tell me you think that’s enough?”

“No. Especially not with a bright teenager who’s in the house alone a lot.”

“Good. Because even with all that security up there, guess what happened about three months ago?”

“Someone cleaned out that safe.”

“Exactly right. Only thing they took from him, and they knew right where to go-trouble with a guy like Miles is, if he has a fancy safe, sooner or later he was bound to show the damned thing to his friends.”

“Miles report the theft after all that bragging?”

“Sure. Wanted the insurance money. Blamed Chase for supposedly not setting the house alarm, but guess what the combination to the gun safe was?”

“Miles’s birthday.”

They tried to keep themselves from laughing too loud, not wanting to wake Chase.

“Chase tell you Miles’s plan about the next school term?” Alex asked.

John shook his head.

“Chase didn’t want to tell you-he’s afraid you’ll be ashamed of him.”

“What? As if I could.”

“That’s what I figured. Anyway, Miles wants to send him to Sedgewick.”

“Sedgewick!”

“John, you’ve got to talk him out of it. Unless a lot has changed in the last few years, I can’t picture Chase surviving there. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to juvenile court to testify in an assault case or one involving some other violent offense, and watched a judge allow some vicious little jerk to be sent to Sedgewick instead of somewhere that might have done him some good-or at least protected the neighborhood from him.”

“I’ve heard stories. But I also heard they straightened some kids out.”

“Some kids did all right there,” Alex admitted. “Supposedly, the school rides herd on them. But unless you haven’t been telling me the truth about him all these years, Chase isn’t in the same league as these kids. Even the best of them is likely to have some kind of violence in his background.”

“Amazing what you can do with money, isn’t it? It’s off in one of the canyons, right?”

“Isolated as hell. Christ, John, why doesn’t Miles just tell the kid he’s sending him to Alcatraz? I don’t think he’d be half as scared.”

“Chase isn’t going there, not if I have anything to say about it. I’ll talk to Miles.”

“Might as well talk to Clarissa, too. Chase seems to think it’s her idea.”

“Clarissa? What mother would want that for her own son?”

“I never imagined Clarissa could be all that motherly. Am I wrong?”

“Clarissa’s not easy to understand.”

Alex laughed.

“Glad you’re amused. But I’m worried about the boy.”

“Me, too.”

“Are you?” he asked, brightening. “Well, then I feel better. Maybe I’ll be able to get to sleep. Good night.”

He went off to his room, and Alex turned out the lights. He lay in the darkness and thought of how neatly his uncle had managed to thoroughly involve him in his worries about Chase.

“You damned old fox,” he murmured.