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totally misread Jake? I didn’t know what to say. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll lay low for a while and then take off. He’ll go to Panama or Cuba.” I didn’t say the words with enough conviction to convince even myself.
    She continued, “We never recovered that gun. The psych profile report believes that he’s probably devolved mentally, and in some sort of freaky way, worships that gun. Bruno, he looked right at me tonight. He knows me from Montclair. I was the patrol sergeant working overtime the day of the shooting. I’d been the one to respond out to his house earlier that same day to mediate a neighborhood disturbance. And, get this, it was over some bathtub cheese. So watch yourself, the way this went down, me walking up, he might think you ratted him out.”
    â€œPerfect.”
    She said, “I’ll notify the FBI and tell them he’s down here, but there’s not much they can do if he’s wanted for murder. Costa Rica won’t approve the extradition if there’s a possibility of the death penalty.”
    I said, “Forget Milky, answer a simple question about this other thing, about these two kidnapped kids. Why me?”
    She took another sip as she probed my eyes. This close examination made me uncomfortable. She finally smiled and reached with her hand to touch me again. I stepped back.
    â€œOkay,” she said, “for several reasons.” She raised a finger to tick them off. “One. I know it’s trite, but it’s true, you are the best at what you do. Robby said you were the best he’d ever seen at tracking down assholes. And with that man’s ego, you have to know how difficult it was for him to say.”
    I wished she wouldn’t keep saying his name.
    â€œTwo. Because I know who’s involved.”
    â€œIf that’s the case, put a team together and follow the suspect. Pick him up in the morning and put him to bed every night. He’ll trip himself up.”
    â€œWe can’t find him, and you know how important time is in a kidnapping.”
    â€œListen, I know you have people who are good at turning over rocks. The news reports said you have a joint task force with Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. Get John Mack. He’s good.” I’d said John’s name to see if she’d react. He was the only one who knew where Marie, my dad, and the kids had landed in Costa Rica. While I spoke, I started having a bad feeling about where she was leading me.
    She was good, didn’t even twitch. John Mack had been the one to tell her where I lived. Had to be. But I had trusted him with my life or I wouldn’t have told him. He had to have a good reason for telling her.
    John Mack had the skills; he would have no problem tracking down this suspect, but he still had a job and a career to consider, where I didn’t. If John found the suspect and the suspect didn’t want to talk, John wouldn’t put the guy’s nuts in a vise like I would and twist until he gave up the kids’ location.
    â€œYou want someone off the grid to come in and black bag this guy, that’s it, isn’t it?”
    She didn’t answer, just stared.
    â€œNo?” I shook my head and looked into her eyes, trying to glean the answer she found so difficult to utter. “It’s something else, isn’t it? It’s because of who it is, right?”
    She nodded.
    â€œWho is it? Tell me.”
    â€œHe left a note, Bruno, said he’d only deal with you. He wrote your name in the note, Deputy Bruno Johnson. I have the note. Only my department knows.”
    â€œMe? Why me?”
    She didn’t answer. She didn’t answer because I’d asked the wrong question.
    I said, “Who?”
    â€œBruno, it’s Jonas Mabry. Not the father, Micah—the kid. Jonas.”
    My head swam and my knees went weak. I grabbed the bar for support.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    In an