“Ummm, if you want some unofficial info, not even water cooler talk, more like urinal gossip …” Phil started, as he typed away.

“By all means,” D.D. assured him.

“Heard Hamilton’s got himself a mistress. A hot Italian spitfire.”

“Name?”

“Haven’t a clue. Guy only mentioned her … derriere.”

“Men are pigs.”

“Personally, I’m a pig who’s in love with his wife and needs her to survive four kids, so don’t look at me.”

“True,” D.D. granted. “Start digging, Phil. Tell me what I need to know, because we think he might have Sophie Leoni.”

D.D. hung up. Bobby came to the exit for the Mass Pike. He careened up it at seventy miles per hour and they went squealing around the corner. Roads were finally clear of snow and there wasn’t much traffic at this time of night. Bobby hit one hundred on the broad, flat highway as they soared toward western Mass. They had a hundred and thirty miles to cover, give or take, D.D. thought, not all of which could be traveled at top speed. Two hours, she decided. Two hours till finally rescuing Sophie Leoni.

“Do you think she’s a good cop?” Bobby asked suddenly.

D.D. didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. “I don’t know.”

Bobby took his gaze off the fast flying darkness just long enough to glance at her. “How far would you go?” he asked softly, his eyes dropped to her belly. “If it were your child, how far would you go?”

“I hope I never have to find out.”

“Because I would kill them all,” Bobby said flatly, his hands flexing and unflexing on the wheel. “If someone threatened Annabelle, kidnapped Carina. There wouldn’t be enough ammo left in this state for what I would do to them.”

D.D. didn’t doubt him for a minute, but she still shook her head.

“It’s not right, Bobby,” she said quietly. “Even if you’re provoked, even if the other guy started it … Criminals resort to violence. We’re cops. We’re supposed to know better. If we can’t live up to that standard … Well then, who can?”

They drove in silence after that, listening to the throaty growl of a flat-out engine and watching city lights wink by like bolts of lightning.

Sophie, D.D. thought, here we come.

Chapter 42

42

Lieutenant Colonel Gerard Hamilton was my commanding officer, but I would never say I knew him well. For one thing, he was several levels above me in the food chain. For another, he was a guy’s guy. When he did hang out with the troopers, it was with Shane, and he often included Shane’s partner in crime, my husband, Brian.

They’d catch Red Sox games, maybe a hunting weekend, or a field trip to Foxwoods.