“With Gina’s parents in town and Sophie’s birthday, this is a crazy week. I promised Gina I would help out with Sophie’s party,” Leetch said, almost sheepishly. “Okay with you if I stay here and do the legwork from this end? I can meet up with you later in Seattle or Philadelphia—or for that matter, Outer Mongolia—once we’ve got a better line on Tyler.”

Cohen nodded. “I think that would work. Rome, this guy hasn’t used Tyler’s credit card in over three weeks.”

Leetch shrugged. “But he used the name at that fleabag motel here within the last week.”

“But he might have moved on to a whole new identity by now.”

“Not much we can do about that.”

“Yeah,” Cohen said distractedly. He knew picking up the trail a second time could prove very difficult with someone as slick as Tyler.

Leetch passed his empty cup across the counter. “You got any more of that girly drink?”

Cohen grabbed the cup and turned the espresso machine back on. “Rome, while I’m gone, do you mind checking in on Dad for me?”

“Do I mind?” Leetch bellowed. “I love dropping in on your pappy! We can bond over what a big disappointment you turned out to be.” He listed the points on his fingers. “A cop … no grandkids … divorced …”

Cohen rolled his eyes. “That was twelve years ago. I was barely twenty-five.”

“I know.” Leetch nodded happily. “And the shrew walked out on you. Good riddance from the sound of it too. But Pappy and I don’t quibble.” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “The point is, between discussing your shortcomings and how bad the Trailblazers suck these days, Pappy and I can talk for hours.”

“Thanks,” Cohen sighed. He poured Leetch another latté. This time he used the extra coffee to drizzle the letters “SOB” into the steamed milk. “I think I’m going to take advantage of the late-morning break in traffic and head up to Seattle soon.”

“Makes sense.” Then looking down at the letters on top of his coffee, he grinned and said: “Now that’s totally uncalled for.” His smile waned. “Seth, if we’re right about what Tyler is up to—”

Cohen nodded. “Then there are others behind him.”

Leetch’s face scrunched into a grimace. “Listen, KC, you be careful up there.”

39 - Miami, Florida

39

Miami, Florida

Wayne Forbes—on the verge of permanently dumping that particular identity—was on his way to a long-anticipated month on the quiet island of Antigua. With an hour to kill, he checked his temporary e-mail address while waiting to board his flight and found a message requesting contact. He thought long and hard before responding to the query.

Forbes found a pay phone and dialed the number. The phone rang once before he heard the now familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Yes?”

“Wayne Forbes, returning your page,” he said impassively.