incarceration and her desire at the time not to meet the people who would take her child.

But in that fleeting moment when their eyes met, Cassie felt something transmitted. They had connected on the cold plane where the worst fears of motherhood are hidden. In Linda Shaw's tortured and wet eyes Cassie saw that there could be no greater love for her daughter.

Cassie was the first to turn her eyes away. She kept the Boxster driving smoothly by. She knew she could take Lookout Mountain up to Sunset Plaza and then back down into the city without having to go by the house again. That was what she would do, she decided.

And then she would go where he wanted her to go. Karch. They would play this out whatever way he wanted.

39

THE desert sky was blue-black, the air cool and crisp. Karch loved the desert at night. He loved how peaceful it was and the memories it brought him. Even inside a Lincoln moving at ninety miles an hour he appreciated it. The desert was restorative. It was the city that took everything away.

He was halfway between Primm and Las Vegas and the glow of the Strip was lighting the horizon ahead like a distant wildfire. The 15 Freeway was wide open. He checked the dash clock and saw it was almost eight. He decided it was time to call Grimaldi. The old man was probably going nuts anyway, wondering and waiting. He turned the overhead light on and checked the girl once more. She was still lying across the backseat asleep. Just looking at her made Karch yawn. He hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours.

He shook it off and gulped black coffee from a to-go cup. He had bought it all the way back in Barstow and it was cold. He put it back in the dashboard cup holder and got the cell phone out of his jacket. He punched in Grimaldi's private office number and then turned the overhead light off. The call was picked up immediately.

'Yes?'

There was a lot of background noise. People noise, talking and yelling and clapping. Karch knew Grimaldi had picked up the extension in the crow's nest.

'Vincent, I need you to go to your computer.'

'Where the hell you been? I've been paging you since – '

'I've been trying to get your money back. Now can you – '

'All I want to know is if you have it, not that you're trying to get it. Trying doesn't mean anything without the other.'

Karch shook his head. He felt like yelling into the phone but knew it would wake up the kid. He kept his voice calm and even.

'It's coming, Vincent. But in order to collect it I'm going to need a little help. Now, can you check a room for me or not?'

'Of course I can check a room. Let me put you on hold while I get someone out here. Hold on.'

Grimaldi didn't wait for a reply. Karch was put on hold as the Lincoln steadily closed in on Las Vegas. After a good five minutes Grimaldi finally picked back up. The background noise was gone. He was in his office now. There was no banter. He got right to the point.

'What's the number?'

'The penthouse. Two-thousand-one. Like the space odyssey.'

'Wait a minute. That's the – '

'I know. Anybody in it?'

'I'm checking… No, it's clear tonight.'

'Good, Vincent. Now block it off and reserve it under the name Jane Davis. You got a pen? I'll give you a credit card number.'

Karch took the passports out of his pocket and pulled an American Express card off the paper clip on the Jane Davis identification package. He turned the overhead light on and read Grimaldi the card number.

'Got it,' Grimaldi said. 'What else?'

The tone in Grimaldi's voice made Karch smile. It was so eager. Karch knew he was in control now. The trick would be to maintain it after this was all over. He spent the next ten minutes outlining his plan, looking over his shoulder twice to make sure the girl was still asleep and not listening. While he spoke the Lincoln passed the WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS sign that had adorned the city's outer perimeter for four decades. The neon-edged shapes of the Strip hotels came into view. Grimaldi badgered him during the telling with questions and voiced doubts. By the time he was finished the mood had shifted and he was exasperated.

'You sure this will work?' Grimaldi said.

'It is called synchronicity, VinCENT,' Karch said angrily. 'Have you ever heard the word? It will all fit together and you will have the money back. That is what you want, isn't it?'

'Yes, Jack, it's what I want.'

'All right then, we're in business. Better get things going. I'm almost there.'

He closed the phone and put it on the seat next to him. He checked the girl again and saw she was still out. He turned the light off just as the phone started to ring. He quickly grabbed it and opened it up before it woke the girl.

'What's wrong now, Vincent? You can't find synchronicity in your dictionary?'

'Who is Vincent?'

It was Cassie Black. Karch smiled, realizing he should have known it would not be Grimaldi because he didn't have the number.

'Cassidy Black,' he said quickly, hoping to cover. 'It's about time you checked in. Those were some nice moves you made today. But I think that if maybe we had been on my turf then things might have turned out – '

'Where is she?'

Her voice was a steely wire. Karch paused, his smile still fixed on his face. The moment was delicious. He had control and he was going to win this one.

'She's with me and she's doing fine. And that's exactly how she'll stay as long as you do exactly what I tell you to do. Do you understand that?'

'Listen to me, Karch. If that little girl gets hurt in any way… then it won't go by, you understand. I will make it my life's work to fuck you up. Do you understand that?'

Karch didn't answer for a while. He opened his window a half inch and got out a cigarette. He lit it off the dash lighter.

'Are you there, Karch?'

'Oh, I'm here. I'm just thinking to myself how ironic this is. I mean, I think it's irony – I never was very good in English class. Is it ironic when somebody whose plan it was to abduct a child complains about that very same child being snatched by somebody else first? Is that irony?'

Karch waited for her to answer but nothing came over the line. His smile broadened. He knew he was cutting her right to the bone. And the truth was always the best and sharpest knife to use for such a procedure.

'So tell me something, Cassie Black, what were you doing living in L.A.? Selling cars or watching the girl? And who was it you were going to take to Tahiti with you, seeing that Max can't exactly make the trip?'

He waited but there was only more silence on the open line.

'The way I figure it, I probably got to her maybe a half hour or an hour before you. So save the righteous indignation. I don't buy it.'

He thought maybe he could hear her crying but wasn't sure. He felt some kind of strange closeness to her. Maybe it was from knowing her plan, from knowing what her secret dream was. It felt wonderful to be so intimately knowledgeable of the very thing another being lived for. It was almost like love.

'That's right,' he said quietly. 'I know all about you and your little plan. Keep an eye on the girl and wait out your parole – what did you have, a year or so to go? Then grab her and head off to paradise – Tahiti, the place you and Max had that wonderful, wonderful time so long ago. By the way, I have something of yours – and I don't mean the girl.'

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