Helpless

“You tried to kiss her, didn’t you?”

“No… I didn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, Bob. Tell the truth. You tried to kiss her.” Roland got right up into Bob’s face, and the older man took a few cowering steps in retreat.

“No.”

“No? I saw you,” Roland said, looking like a poker player who’d just showed his winning hand. “I saw you,” Roland repeated, this time in a much softer voice.

Bob’s face went slack. “You were there?”

Roland just grinned—the same one that Tom knew so well. “Ever hear of a nanny cam, Bob?”

Bob looked as though he might faint. “Roland, nothing happened between us. I swear.”

“You swear, huh? I have video evidence contradicting that claim.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Bob.

“You’ve got to take your punishment,” Roland said.

“My what?”

“I’ve got to hurt you, Bob. Physically. Right here, right now. And you’ve got to take it like a man.”

“Roland, please. Let’s be rational about this!”

“This is going to hurt you a lot more than it is me, Bob.” Roland cocked a fist backward and let it fly—a hook punch aimed squarely at Bob’s head.

Tom sprang forward, putting himself between the two men. With one hand, he pushed Bob backward, out of Roland’s range. With his other hand, Tom caught Roland’s fist in midair. “Roland, don’t do this,” he said. He kept putting up resistance until Roland eventually relaxed. Even then Tom held on to Roland’s fist a few seconds longer, until he felt it was safe to let go.

Taking advantage of the lull, Bob took several quick steps in retreat. Roland danced past Tom with a little spin move he had perfected on the soccer pitch, and seized Bob by the lapels of his suit jacket.

“Not so fast, Bob,” Roland said. “We still have an issue to deal with.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go home. Mull over what you did wrong. Call me later to apologize. Sound like a deal?”

“I’m not going to just forget about what you did to me tonight,” Bob said. “You’ll be hearing from my attorney.”

“Not if you want to stay married, I won’t,” Roland said. “Remember the nanny cam? I’m sure Veronica would be highly disappointed to see what I could show her.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test me. And, Bob… don’t ever talk to my wife again.”

Bob straightened out his suit jacket and gave Tom a quiet look of thanks. If Bob had recognized Tom from news reports of Kelly’s death, it didn’t register on his face. Bob left the patio through the French doors.

Tom waited outside with Roland. “What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“The guy tried to make it with my wife,” Roland said. “What more do you need to know?”

“Why’d you invite him to your party if you knew what he had done?”

Roland scoffed. “Tom, I’d have thought you, of all people, would understand the advantage of a surprise attack. Bob showed up here with his guard down, and I just scared the absolute crap out of him. That’s why I invited him.”

Tom recalled the look Roland had flashed Adriana the afternoon he stopped by their house to ask about Kip Lange. Ironic, thought Tom, that he had lied about Lange’s jealous streak to a man who really had one.

“You weren’t really going to hit that guy, were you?” asked Tom.

Roland just laughed. “Nah, I was going to pull back. But I must say, you still got your speed, Tom. Haven’t lost a step.”

Tom grunted. “For a second there, I thought you were going to really pummel him.”

Roland chuckled again. “I don’t get mixed up in any physical altercations,” he said. “It’s bad for business.”

“Good to know,” Tom said, feeling only a modicum of relief. Roland might be loosely wired, but at least he wasn’t dangerous.

“I just said I wouldn’t hit him. I never said he wouldn’t get hurt.”

“Oh, you have guys who do that for you?” Tom asked with a slight laugh, believing Roland had to be kidding.

“Keep flirting with Adriana and maybe you’ll find out for yourself.” Roland kept a serious expression, then cracked a broad smile, laughed loudly, and slapped Tom hard on the back, but in a playful way.

Tom returned a smile of his own, but it didn’t last long. It didn’t matter that he and Roland hadn’t spoken much in the past several years. Tom knew when his friend was serious.

Chapter 19

Rainy drove the fifty-six miles from Boston to Shilo without the aid of her car stereo or air-conditioning. Both were on the fritz. She wondered how long it would take the Bureau’s notoriously cumbersome bureaucracy to fix her work-issued sedan.

Wendy Toman, a kind-eyed woman of forty-eight and one of the best victim-witness coordinators Rainy had ever worked with, read through Mann’s case file during the trip. Wendy was an “all business, all the time” kind of gal, which Rainy greatly appreciated on these long drives. There was never any talk about Wendy’s three kids or doting husband, which meant Rainy didn’t have to reproach herself about not even making time for a date.

In truth, Rainy wasn’t all that concerned about her anemic social life. Thirty was the new twenty, or so she often told herself. Rainy’s mother, however, believed that thirty was the same damn old thirty, and worried that her daughter was destined to become a lonely cat person. Rainy continued to assure her she didn’t even have a cat. Not yet, you don’t, her mother would counter. For now, the job was Rainy’s life, and she was committed to making it the best life possible.

Rainy’s mission in Shilo was a straightforward one: to make an official identification of the girl in the photograph. Rainy hadn’t had any luck figuring out how Mann got Lindsey’s naked pictures. Rainy had contacted all the major cell phone providers, but their on-staff security experts assured her they had no foreign code on their servers, nothing that could give someone access to private text messages. Even if a hacker managed to gain access, it didn’t explain how they’d know which messages contained pictures of naked teens.

Had Mann obtained Lindsey’s image solely through the file-sharing feature of Leterg? Rainy wondered. Had Lindsey been coerced by Mann into sending those pictures? If so, she could charge Mann with production—a fifteen-year mandatory minimum.

He can’t do enough time, Rainy thought.

Rainy worried about Lindsey’s reaction. The girl was about to learn that the FBI had found her naked pictures on the computer of a suspected child pornographer. Wendy had come along to guide Lindsey through the tumultuous aftershocks of finding out her revealing images had been made public. She’d work quickly to establish a trusting relationship. Lindsey would have a safe place to share her feelings and express her sorrow. Victims who grieved openly and freely were less likely to turn against themselves.

Lindsey Wells’s home was a stately custom colonial on a quiet street, tucked inside a pleasant, tree-lined neighborhood. Rainy rang the doorbell. Nice chimes. She doubted she’d ever have a doorbell of her own. She assumed she’d always be a buzzer girl, just like her fellow apartment dwellers in Cambridge.

Lindsey opened the door without hesitating. No reason for caution when there was no reason to fear.

“Can I help you?” The girl sounded nervous when she saw the two women.

“Lindsey Wells?” Rainy asked.

“Yes?”

Rainy took out her badge and flashed it to Lindsey. “I’m Special Agent Loraine Miles with the Boston FBI. This is my colleague, Wendy Toman.”

“Hello, Lindsey,” Wendy said in a soothing voice. “We’d like to speak with you about something.”