Page 29 of Home (Myron Bolitar 11)

"I taped it," Brooke said. "I've been watching it freeze-frame."

Chick said, "So?"

"So I'm not convinced that boy is Patrick Moore."

Chapter 20

Just seeing Terese's name on his caller ID made Myron's bunched shoulder muscles unknot. He hit the answer button as he headed to his car and without preamble said, "I love you so much."

"No knock on Win," Terese replied, "but that's a much cooler way of answering the phone than 'Articulate.'"

"I may not use it for everyone," Myron said.

"Oh, why not? Make someone's day."

"Where are you?"

"In my hotel room," Terese said. "Hey, remember the last time we were in a hotel room together?"

Myron couldn't help but grin. "How many calls did we get complaining about the noise?"

"Well, Myron, you were awfully loud."

Myron switched the phone to his other ear. "My toes were numb for a week."

"I don't get that reference."

"Me neither, but somehow it sounded right."

"It did," she agreed. "I miss you."

"Me too."

"This job."

"Yes?"

"If I get it--and that's a big if--but if I get it, they may want me to relocate to Atlanta or DC."

"Okay," Myron said.

"You'd move?"

"Sure."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"I mean, I could commute at first," she said.

"No commute. We move."

"God, you're sexy when you're bossy."

"And even when I'm not."

"Don't push it." Then Terese said, "Are you sure? I can back out. There will be other job opportunities."

Myron had lived his whole life in this area. He had been born here, raised here, spent four years in college in North Carolina, returned here. He was so attached to this area that he had even bought his childhood home rather than let go of the past.

"I'm sure," Myron said. "I want you to have the career you want."

"Ugh, don't sound so PC."

"I also want to be a kept man."

"That might require performing sexual favors on demand," Terese said.

Myron sighed. "I give and I give."

She laughed. Terese didn't laugh often. He loved the sound. "I better get ready," she said. "The second interview is in an hour."

"Good luck."

"Where are you headed?" Terese asked.

"After this call? To a cold shower. Then I'm going to see my parents and Mickey."

"I saw that press interview on TV."

"Any thoughts?"

"What you said."

"What's that?"

"You're missing something."

They got off the phone then with a minimum of mushiness. Myron started driving toward his hometown. Could he really do it? Could he move out of the area he had always called home?

The answer, for the first time in his life, was a resounding yes.

Win called him during the drive.

"Hello?"

"Tell all," Win said.

"Did you see the Moore family interview?" Myron asked.

"I did."

In the background, Myron could hear men shouting in a foreign language. "Where are you exactly?"

"Rome."

"Italy?"

"No. Rome, Wyoming."

"No reason for sarcasm."

"Who needs a reason?"

"Brooke is not positive the boy is Patrick," Myron said.

"Yes, she texted me that."

"I called PT down in Quantico. He has a friend who might be able to help us. She does stuff with forensic facial reconstruction or something."

"I did my own cursory check," Win said. "Comparing a still shot of what we saw today with Patrick at age six and via age progression."

"Any conclusions?"

"No," Win said. "But I ask myself two questions. If it isn't Patrick, then who is it? If it isn't Patrick, what possible motive would Nancy and Hunter have to lie about it?"

Myron thought about it. "I don't know."

"A DNA test would help."

"It would," Myron agreed. "But again, suppose we find out it isn't Patrick. What would that mean? You got a second?"

"I do."

"So let's look at all the possible angles, even the most outrageous."

"Such as?" Win said.

"Such as, suppose Nancy and Hunter killed both boys and hid their bodies. I know, I know, outrageou

s, but just for the sake of this thought experiment, let's suppose it's possible."

"Okay."

"So maybe to throw suspicion off themselves, they set out to bring a fake Patrick back. They find a teenager who's the right age and right look. They send you those emails leading you in that direction. You find the teen at King's Cross or whatever. You with me?"

"Not fully," Win said.

"Right, because even the most outrageous scenario makes no sense. That's my point. There was no heat on any suspects--not after all these years. No one was starting to suspect them. If they had killed the boys--again I'm just talking here; I don't think that's the case--they'd gain nothing by pretending Patrick was found."

"True," Win said. Then: "Of course, it could be another sort of con."

"That being?"

"Let's say the boy isn't Patrick."

"Okay."

"Let's say, though," Win continued, "that someone is setting up Nancy and Hunter. They arrange to have this fake Patrick found. They know that Nancy and Hunter want it so much to be their son that they'd be easily fooled."

"The desire for resolution," Myron said.

"Precisely. It can be blinding."

"But again: What's the motive? Is this fake Patrick going to steal money or something?"

Win considered that. "No, I don't think that would be it."

"And the boy's injuries were real. He was stabbed. We're lucky he didn't die."

"At the hands of Fat Gandhi," Win said. "Myron?"

"Yes?"

"We are doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Ignoring Sherlock's axiom. We need more data."

Win was right. They often quoted Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's beloved Sherlock Holmes: "It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."

"Myron?"

"Yes."

"What else is wrong?"

Myron let loose a deep breath. "You're not going to like this."

"Oh, then please stall and sugarcoat it for me."

"More sarcasm?"

"More stalling?"

Myron dove straight in, telling Win about his visit to Neil Huber and the texts between Chick Baldwin and Nancy Moore. When he finished, Win went quiet for a moment. Myron could still hear the men shouting in a foreign--he assumed Italian--tongue.

"Why are you in Rome?" Myron asked.

"I'm getting close to Fat Gandhi."

"He's in Italy?"

"Doubtful." Then: "Do you believe Chick when he says those text exchanges were innocent?"

"No," Myron said. "But that doesn't mean they have anything to do with the kidnapping."

"True," Win said.

"You want me to take a run at Nancy? Confront her about the texts?"

"I do, yes."

"And what about Brooke?"

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