Duncan softened, watching the jolt of pain that still was able to find its way into Condley’s skylike eyes after all the years. “Brandon, let me give you a small piece of advice. It wasn’t your fault that Mai died. She made her choices too, just like we all did. So it’s okay to fall in love with somebody else. She wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m sure she’d want you to. And quite frankly, you’re running out of time.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. And maybe I just don’t want to be in love with anybody else.”

“Everybody wants to be in love.”

Condley found himself chuckling softly. “Is this Mad Dog Duncan talking to me like that? The guy who once told me he was so horny he’d fuck a mud fence? For a minute I thought I was listening to a country song.”

“It’s true,” insisted Duncan. “We learn that as we grow older.”

“All of us? What did you do, take a survey?”

“I just worry about you sometimes, Brandon.”

“I’m fine, Skipper. And right now what I’d really love more than anything would be to finish this fucking case.” Condley stood, shaking the general’s hand. “I’m out of here in a day or two. Maybe you can have Dick Tracy drive the sanitized version of these reports over to CILHI?”

“Easy to do,” said Duncan, standing also and walking with Condley toward the house.

“Nice fellow,” said Condley.

“He doesn’t think you’re very nice.”

“Well, he’s right,” shrugged Condley as Duncan slid open the glass doors and walked into his living room. “I mean, he’s nice and I’m not.”

“Sorry if I pushed too far, Brandon. I care about you.”

“You can say anything you want. You’re closer than family, you know. We bled together. Not many people can say that.”

“Deville’s still alive.” The general said it with such simple conviction that Condley knew it must be true. “I don’t know where he is. There’s not a trace of him anywhere. But he’s too smart to be dead.”

“I’m going to find him.”

“I know you are,” said Duncan.

“And then I’m probably going to kill him. If I get the chance, anyway.”

“I know you will,” said the general again. “But I have this fucking job, Brandon. Congress can call me to testify at any time. The President can summon me to the White House. The Washington Post can call me in the middle of the night with a series of questions. And 60 Minutes can show up on my doorstep with the cameras rolling. Do you get the point?”

“Not really,” said Condley, standing in the front hallway and waiting for Maria to join him from the kitchen.