“Not just yet,” I tell her. “Pretty soon.”
“Did they catch him?” Sarah is talking about Liquida.
“They’ll get him. He can’t get far. How’s life on the farm?” I try to change the subject. We talk for several more minutes. It is strange that after all the tension, there isn’t all that much to say. If I talk too long, sooner or later she is going to ask me about Herman and I will have to lie. So we cut it short.
“See you soon,” I tell her. “I love you.”
“Love you too. How’s Herman?”
I ignore the question. “Say hello to Harry for me. Bye-bye.”
“Call me again soon, please. Bye.” She hangs up.
The moment Sarah hung up she realized-Damn! She’d forgotten to mention the little package he’d sent her or ask him what it was for. It was supposed to be so they could stay in touch. According to the note in the box, he was sending another one to Harry and it was supposed to be a surprise. She wondered for a moment whether she should call him back. She decided against it. She made a mental note to ask him the next time he called.
Liquida gripped the wheel in obvious discomfort as he steered the rental car north up I-70. The doctor who’d stitched him up had done a pretty good job, though he could not guarantee that the feeling in the fingertips of Liquida’s right hand would ever fully recover.
Liquida thanked him and then cut his throat. The doctor, at an all-night clinic in downtown Washington, was far too inquisitive as to how the injury had occurred. He had seen too many knife wounds to buy Liquida’s story that it was an industrial accident.
For the moment all Liquida wanted to do was to put distance between himself and Washington, and he didn’t want to fly. The last thing he needed was TSA running their hand-wand metal detector over the staples in his back. Besides, this way he could stop every few hours. And whenever he wanted to he could layover for the night. Liquida was in no hurry. The investigator was dead, and no one knew where the Mexicutioner was headed. He had business to finish, a labor of love at a farm outside Groveport, Ohio.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many people provided encouragement and support in the writing of this book, including family and friends.
At the very top of the list of those I wish to thank is my assistant, Marianne Dargitz, who for years, on those long lonely days when I stared bug-eyed at empty manuscript pages, offered her boundless patience, constant encouragement, and ever-diligent work to make this and other books possible.
For particular assistance on technical aspects for this book, I thank Bruce Wilson, whose voluminous research and attention to detail were of incomparable help. In addition, I appreciate greatly the help of Dick Gerry, whose long experience, knowledge, and guidance as a retired commercial airline pilot made possible the crafting of those flight scenes that are so pivotal to this story. That said, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Gerry are in no way responsible for any errors that may have crept into the book, since neither had a hand in the actual writing of the manuscript. For any errors in these regards, the author is solely and entirely responsible.
Among others to be thanked are my publisher, William Morrow, and all the people at Harper Collins without whose unstinting care and love of publishing nothing would be possible. Most of all I wish to thank my editor, David Highfill, who has been a friend and constant source of encouragement and patience; editorial assistant Gabe Robinson, who fielded my phone calls and handled so many technical aspects during the transition from paper to digital editing; my agent, Esther Newberg, and attorney, John Delaney, of International Creative Management, and my New York lawyers, Mike Rudell and Eric Brown, of Franklin, Weinrib, Rudell & Vassallo, for their constant attention and guidance to the business aspects of my publishing career.
Finally, and not least for their caring interest, love, and constant encouragement, I thank Al and Laura Parmisano, who have been there for me always during good times and bad; my friends Jan Draut, Anna Aleynikova, John Garrison, Mike Padilla, and Jim Bryan; and for her constant and unconditional love, my intelligent, beautiful, and wonderful daughter, Megan Martini, who in my eyes makes all things possible.
About the Author
STEVE MARTINI is the author of numerous New York Times bestsellers, including Guardian of Lies, Shadow of Power, and others featuring defense attorney Paul Madriani. Martini has practiced law in California in both state and federal courts and has served as an administrative law judge and supervising hearing officer. He lives in the Pacific Northwest.
www.stevemartini.com
