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putting it together with stuff the FBI sent us in a file for you. Seems
the father got in a bar fight quite a few years back in Chicago. Did three days
for that. The guys got a temper.”
    “This requires me to rush to Montana? The FBI has people
there and here. What, they lose the numbers?”
    “It is out of our hands.”
    “Sounds like somebody’s pumped to build a case where
maybe none exists. I’m going to pass, Leo. I’ve got plans and--”
    “You are going to the mountains, Inspector.”
    “How’s that?”
    “Walt, you have no say. Unless you are retiring today?”
    “What is the deal on this, Leo? What’s going on here?”
    “Rangers and feebees got a very bad smell on this thing
the instant it broke.” Walt heard Leo shuffling papers. “The strategy is to quietly pull out all the stops now in the event it turns into a homicide. Remember that
case not too long ago in Yellowstone? It prompted the rangers and FBI to go
hard at the outset. Then there was that old mess in Colorado, a missing turns
into kidnapping turns into homicide?”
    “So?”
    “And the South Carolina case. Mom screams on the
networks that a stranger took her two kids, when it turns out she killed them?”
    “So? The rangers and FBI can handle their own cases.
When we catch one, we don’t wet our pants, call for help to come hold our
hand.”
    “I suspect big political buttons were pushed here. The
park is federal jurisdiction. It is the state’s tourist jewel. The Montana governor has pull. He calls Washington, who calls Sacramento, who calls our
employer, who calls us, and now I’m calling you. They want this settled fast.
No mistakes. Whatever the hell happened in the mountains they want it cleared
fast, solid and by the book. Preferably with a happy ending. No weekly TV panel
discussions with experts pointing out the screw-ups.”
    Sydowski cursed under his breath and shook his head.
    “Anybody think it may be a matter of a child missing in
the woods?”
    “It is your sworn duty as an officer assisting in this
file to help the team determine if that is the case. Accomplish that, Inspector
Sydowski, and your duty will have been done. Then you can go fishing.”
    “You know, Leo, you are a sycophantic boot-licking
toady.”
    “You will be assisting a Special Agent Frank Zander. I
think he’s coming in from D.C. A brass-balled mother who could build a case
against the pope for Jimmy Hoffa. You are supposed to challenge him to make the
case solid.”
    “If I see a bear, I’ll cuff it, then bring it back and
feed him your asshole.”
    “I knew you would see things my way, dear. Pack
flannel.”
    “Up yours.” Sydowski slammed down the phone.
    His father said, “I take it that was not Louise?”
    The call meant Sydowski’s old man had to go home to Pacifica, so he called a cab for him, then phoned a friend in his bird club who lived a few
doors down the street. The friend had a key to Sydowski’s aviary and agreed to
tend to his birds while he was away. Within twenty minutes, both men had
finished packing when Linda arrived in an unmarked Chevy Caprice. Sydowski was
upstairs. His old man let her in.
    “Hi there. I’m Linda Turgeon, Walt’s partner.” She
removed her sunglasses. Her brunette hair had been recently cut in a jaw-length
bob. She was wearing a tailored lavender suit and looked very nice.
    “I am his wise father, John.” He was wearing his Giants’
ball cap and a frayed navy sweater over a plaid shirt. “You look cute--like my
granddaughters.”
    Linda blushed. “Thank you, John. Walt told me you were
not shy.” She was a little puzzled, noticing the old man’s hat, his bag by his
feet. “Are you accompanying him on this trip?”
    “No, he is going home, Linda,” Sydowski came down the
stairs. “Grab your bag, Pop. Cab’s here.”
    “My son is grumpy. He called his boss a toad because
this new case is interfering with his new romance.”
    Linda’s surprised eyes widened and she shot a