Page 68 of The Lie Maker

“He is,” Gwen said. “But there are others who might seek to get even with your father, even after all this time. Like the families of Abel Gartner or Len Klay. Possibly others.”

I knew the names, of course.

“It’s been too long,” I said. “That can’t be it.”

Gwen took out her phone, brought up a photo, and turned the screen around so I could have a look at it. It was a man, shot from the waist up, so I couldn’t guess his height. But he still looked big. Broad shoulders, thick neck, a face like a hunk of granite. Caucasian, jet-black hair, ears that stood out. About forty years old. The image was soft, slightly out of focus, as though shot from a distance with a telephoto lens.

“Who’s this?”

“It might be the guy your father’s on the run from. You ever seen him before?”

“No.”

“We think his name is Sam. Or Stewart. Maybe Arthur. A professional. If he’s who we think he is, he’s a very dangerous man. And if he’s looking for your father, and finds him, it won’t end well.”

“What do you mean, a professional? Who the fuck is he? Does my father know him? Did he piss this guy off somehow?”

“We don’t think it’s anything personal between them. We have reason to believe this man has simply been hired to do a job.”

“By whom? Why?”

“It’s not clear. Surveillance was being conducted on him for other reasons and your father’s name came up unexpectedly. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Does he smoke?” I asked.

“Does he smoke?”

“Yeah. It’s probably nothing, but there was a car parked out front of my place the other night. The driver was smoking. I could see the tip of his cigarette. It was like he was watching the place. And then, later, he was gone.”

Gwen considered that. “Whoever’s looking for your father might think he’d come here.”

“Christ,” I said.

“Cards on the table here, Jack,” Gwen said. “Have you ever heard from your father since that night he was taken into the program? And if you have, do you know anything that might help us find him?”

I’d never told a soul any of this.

“What if my father’s at risk because someone in the witness protection program let the information out? Telling you might be the dumbest thing I could do.”

“It’s your call,” Gwen said. “But whatever you tell me stays with me.”

I stayed silent for several seconds before Gwen said, “There’s another reason why we would like to find him.”

My breathing slowed while I waited.

“This is more difficult to broach with you, but you strike me as someone who would want to do the right thing. To stop something bad before it happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We have to consider the possibility your father has gone back to his old ways. That he’s hung out his shingle. That he’s for hire. That he’s doing what he did for Galen Frohm. Maybe he’s gone off our radar because he’s decided to do it for someone else. Maybe he needs the money. Maybe, deep down, it’s the kind of work he likes to do.”

“No,” I said.

“Jack, whatever the reason he’s disappeared, he needs to be found. Either to protect him or to protect someone else from him. So let me ask you again, Jack. Have you ever heard from your father since he went into the program?”

I thought a long time before giving her my answer.

“Yes,” I said. “I have.”

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