“I know.”
“The last test. We set a barrier point we can’t go past.”
“I know that, Morris.”
“Have you told Dwayne?”
“I can’t. I can’t tell him his friend lived into old age waiting for someone to come for him. He lived out his life just waiting in that horrible place.”
“Then we carry this with us. It’s just another secret to keep.”
“I know I have to,” Caroline said. “But I’m not sure I can.”
25
Ojos Verdes
The man at the door had eyes as green as a summer pond.
“Lynn Renzi?” the man said.
“Are you from the school?” Lynn said, standing at the partly open front door. He had not knocked or rung the bell. She only sensed he was there when his shadow crossed the windows that faced the front walk.
“I’m not from the school,” the man said.
“Because I sent a note with my daughter. Ricky hasn’t gotten over the flu, so I’m keeping him home until Monday.”
“I’m not from the school,” the man said again. He leaned forward, and she opened the door to allow him into the living room. Lynn got no vibe off this guy. He was well-dressed and professionally polite. He might be one of those guys Dwayne Roenbach had told her could come around asking questions.
He didn’t take a seat. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the toys on the floor and the magazines and catalogs in messy piles on the sofa and coffee table. The sound of TV cartoons came from a room somewhere deeper in the house.
“Is your husband home?”
“My husband is dead.”
The man stood silent.
“Who are you with? Can I see some ID? One with a picture?”
“I don’t carry pictures of myself.” The man was regarding her now, not looking away, not blinking. He glanced at her protruding belly. She was five months along.
“I’m going have to ask you to leave,” Lynn said.
“I’ll leave when you’ve answered my questions,” he said. There was no change in tone. He was stating a fact, and she had to accept it.
She eyed the cell phone on the side table. She thought of the pump shotgun leaning in her bedroom closet. She thought of Ricky Jr. watching Disney on the TV in the family room. She did nothing.
“When did your husband die?”
“A couple of months ago.”
“Did he know a man named Lee Hammond? Or Dolan Carter?”
“He was in the army with a guy named Hammond.”
“Did you ever meet this guy?”
“No. Ricky would tell me stories.”
“Stories. What kind of stories?”
“You know, the kind of stories guys tell. Bullshit stuff. I didn’t believe half of it.”
The man stood considering that.
“Did he tell any other stories? Maybe stories about other men he served with?”
Lynn tried not to react, but her fingers clenched.
“Have any of them been to see you? Any of your husband’s army buddies?”
“Are you IRS?”
“I am not with any government agency.”
“You aren’t allowed to lie about that, right? If you were with the tax people, you’d have to tell me.”
“I am free to lie with impunity.” The man did not smile, but Lynn sensed this was some kind of joke on his part. She felt uneasy but not frightened. She sensed he wasn’t going to harm her as long as she answered honestly. Unless he asked about the money. Then she’d lie her ass off.
“Dwayne Roenbach was here. Maybe six weeks ago. He hasn’t been back.”
“Do you expect to hear from him again?”
“I don’t ever want to see that son of a bitch again,” Lynn spat. She wanted this guy and his creepy-ass eyes out of her living room.
“Can you write down a phone number?”
“Sure.” She picked a Barbie coloring book up off the sofa. She reached over the cell phone to get it and, for a second, thought of trying to palm it. But this guy seemed like he was on his way out.
She leaned on an end table and took down the number the man recited on the cover of the book.
“This number doesn’t look right,” she said. “It’s right. Read it back to me.”
She did.
“If you hear from Mr. Roenbach or any other man your husband served with, would you promise to call me?”
“Yes, I will. Who do I ask for when I call?”
“I’m the only one who will answer at that number.” He stood to go but did not move to the door. She stepped past him to shove the screen door open.
When he was gone Lynn sank onto the sofa with the coloring book clutched in her hand. She could hear Ricky’s giggle over the squeaky cartoon voices in the other room. The green-eyed man didn’t ask if she had a phone number for Dwayne Roenbach. She wondered if she would have lied about having it. He didn’t ask about the money. This was all about some guy named Hammond.
It wasn’t until later that day that she realized that the visitor hadn’t touched anything with his hands. He dictated his number rather than writing it for her or handing her a card. He waited until she held the door for him to leave.
Richard Renzi was dead. That came as a surprise to the man with the pond-green eyes, but he didn’t show it. Surprises were so rare for him that he didn’t know how to react to them.
He eased onto the highway and drove across the border into Kentucky toward the airport. He drove the speed limit, gloved hands at ten and two o’clock on the wheel. He called ahead on his SAT phone. The charter jet was waiting.
Everything on Hammond turned up a dry hole. The man had simply vanished. That wasn’t an easy thing to do these days where everyone on the planet left a dense trail of data behind them as they moved through life. It was especially difficult to hide from anyone with the resources the green-eyed man had. Endless resources. Deep resources. He turned to Hammond’s history and began looking into past associations. Hammond had no family and no record of employment after his
