FBI.”
All she could say was “Oh.”
“I hate to interrupt your lunch, but I would like to talk to you.”
Amy froze. The warning outside the baseball stadium was all too fresh in her mind — how her daughter would pay if she talked to the police. But it was too late to get up and run. “Talk to me?” she asked innocently. “What about?”
“I think you know.”
“I think you’d better tell me.”
“We’ve been watching Ryan Duffy for several days now. And we’ve been monitoring his phone calls. We heard the message you left at his clinic. And we saw you meet with him last night in Denver.”
Amy tried not to flinch. Her message had been intentionally vague, she recalled, just in case someone other than Ryan had listened to it. “So?”
“So, we’ve checked you out as well. We understand you were robbed recently. We spoke to the detective from the Boulder police. Says you were acting strange during his interview, as if you were holding back something.”
“That’s his opinion.”
“Yes. It is a matter of opinion. But you know what? Just sitting here and watching your face for the last two minutes, I’ve formed the same opinion.”
Amy looked away. It was a curse, that expressive face of hers. It wasn’t just Gram who could read it.
The agent leaned closer. “Tell me. What are you doing with a guy like Ryan Duffy?”
She could sense his stare, but she didn’t look, couldn’t meet his eyes. She had too many reasons not to talk to him — the threat outside the stadium, and now Marilyn. She had promised Marilyn never to talk to anyone about the rape, and she knew that was where this would lead if she let the FBI in the door.
She gathered up her tray and rose, spilling her soft drink. “I have nothing to say to you,” she said, flustered.
“You will. Take my card,” he said, handing it to her. “Call me when you’re ready.”
Amy gave him a long look. She took the card without a word and walked away, never looking back.
45
Ryan went directly from K &G headquarters to Norm’s office. Norm was working alone in the conference room, preparing for tomorrow’s courtroom showdown. That Brent’s deposition had blossomed into a full-blown evidentiary hearing came as a surprise to Ryan. Norm wanted to talk strategy with his client. Ryan, however, unloaded a surprise of his own — the meeting with Kozelka, or at least with his right-hand man.
Norm listened without interruption, but Ryan could tell he was steaming.
“Big mistake,” said Norm. “I don’t see an upside to a stunt like that.”
“You got a better way to find out how my father committed rape and then turned it into blackmail?”
“You’ll never find that out. Not from Kozelka.”
“Had I already gone to the FBI, I would agree with you. But I made it very clear that I haven’t said anything to the FBI yet. Kozelka can keep the FBI out of this just by giving me the information I want.”
“Ryan, he’s not an idiot. If you don’t already know what information your father used to blackmail him, he’s not going to tell you. He’d be giving you carte blanche to pick up where your father left off and keep on blackmailing him. He’s probably back in his office doing cartwheels, delighted that your old man took the secret to the grave.”
Ryan fell silent. “I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”
“Of course you haven’t. You’re a brilliant guy, but you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since sometime before your father died. You’ve hardly slept at all in the last four days. Your wife’s divorcing you. Your blockheaded brother-in-law appears to have beaten the crap out of her lawyer. Your sister’s a pregnant squirrel. Your mother has her head in the sand. Your father’s a convicted rapist. You’ve been chased by the Panamanian police. The FBI and the IRS are breathing down your neck. Need I go on? You have too much to think about. That’s why you should listen to me, damn it. Or do you want to add ‘FBI Most Wanted’ to your list of woes?”
“So maybe I could have thought this through a little better. But Kozelka does appear to hold the key. I was afraid that once I went to the FBI, he might never talk. I’d never find the truth.”
“The truth is, you made a terrible mistake. And you made it for one reason: you’re still protecting your father.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your obsession right now is to find out why Kozelka paid your father all that money. One option is to cooperate with the FBI and let them interrogate Kozelka, but then you’d have to tell them your father was a rapist and extortionist. The other option is to barge into K &G headquarters like an idiot and demand to speak directly to Joe Kozelka yourself.”
Ryan was suddenly angry, pacing the room. “Is it really that crazy to wonder why a man like Kozelka would pay a rapist five million dollars?”
“You’re way too consumed by this rape question. Step back. You might even realize the blackmail has no connection at all to the rape.”
“Then why would the rape conviction record have been in the same safe deposit box as the Panamanian bank records?”
“Maybe the rape simply explains why your dad gave a two-hundred-thousand-dollar chunk of the money to Amy Parkens. You said it yourself before — it could have been his way of making amends for what he did to Amy’s mother. But the rape might have nothing to do with the reasons Kozelka or anyone else paid your father five million dollars.”
Ryan considered the theory quietly, saddened by its plausibility. He could think only of the horrified look on Amy’s face yesterday. “That would mean my father really did rape Amy’s mother.”
“Stop protecting your father, Ryan. It’s time to start worrying about your own neck.”
Ryan wanted to deny it, but the more the silence lingered, the more he realized: Norm was right. He answered in a calm, much quieter tone. “What’s done is done, I guess. The good news is, I’ve at least confirmed that Kozelka is the source of the funds.”
“And the really bad news,” said Norm, “is that you still have no idea what your dad used to blackmail Kozelka. Yet you marched right into his building and left him with the distinct impression that the Duffy family is still blackmailing him.”
“No way. I made it very clear that I wasn’t after money.”
“Blackmail doesn’t have to involve money. In a general sense, any time you use threats to cause someone to act against their own free will, it’s a form of extortion.”
“I didn’t threaten him.”
“It was a veiled threat, Ryan. In essence, you told him to come up with the information you want by Monday at ten A.M., or you give Kozelka’s name to the FBI.”
“That’s extortion?”
“Legally, it’s a gray area. But if I were Kozelka, I’d take it that way.”
“What should we do?”
“Wait. And brace ourselves. We’re about to find out how Kozelka takes to threats.”
Joseph Kozelka sat behind his desk, still fuming. The entire exchange in the conference room had been caught on camera, broadcast on closed circuit to the television monitor in his office. To say Dr. Duffy had angered him would be a gross understatement. Kozelka, however, wasn’t the type to rant and rave. He stewed. Never alone. Always in the presence of those he held responsible. It was a power tactic that left subordinates melting with apprehension.
This afternoon, Nathan Rusch was one of those subordinates. He sat nervously on the couch, awaiting his boss’s reaction.
Job security was a rare luxury at K &G, especially for someone like Rusch, whose job was totally result-
