Читать книгу Andrew Gross 3-Book Thriller Collection 2: 15 Seconds, Killing Hour, The Blue Zone - Andrew Gross, Andrew Gross - Страница 29

FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER …

“Hey, Fergus … c’mon, boy, let’s go!”

It was a crisp autumn morning as Kate jogged through the entrance of Tompkins Square Park with Fergus, the six-month-old Labradoodle she and Greg had adopted. He was chasing a squirrel on his run-leash a short distance behind.

The terrible events of the past year seemed a long way away.

She was Kate Herrera now. She and Greg had gotten married eight months earlier at City Hall. They lived in a loft on the seventh floor of a converted warehouse building over on Seventh Street, just a few blocks away. Greg was finishing his last year of residency now.

Kate ran with Fergus pretty much every morning before she headed to work. And she also rowed early on two other mornings, Wednesdays and Saturdays, up at the Peter Jay Sharp Boathouse on the Harlem River. She was still working at the lab. In another year she’d have her master’s. After that, she didn’t know. Greg had applications out. It all came down to the question of where he would end up practicing. In the past year, they’d had to pull away from a lot of their old friends.

Kate still had no idea where her family was. Somewhere out west … that was all she knew. She got e-mails and letters every couple of weeks, the occasional phone call routed through a neutral WITSEC site. Em was playing squash again and starting to think about college. And Justin was having trouble adjusting to a new school, new friends. But it was her mom she was worried about. Hiding out in this new place, not exactly making friends, was taking its toll. Since he’d been released, Kate had heard that things had gotten pretty tense between Mom and Dad.

Kate had seen her father only once. Just before the trial. The WITSEC people had arranged it—secretly. They didn’t want her to be seen attending the proceedings. Only a few weeks before, one of the key government witnesses, a bookkeeper from Argot—a forty-year-old woman with two kids—had been shot dead, right on Sixth Avenue. At rush hour. It had made all the papers and news broadcasts and stirred up a whole new round of fear. That’s why they’d gotten the dog, they joked. But of course it wasn’t funny. It was scary as shit.

And anyway, all Fergus would ever do was lick you to death if anyone ever tried anything.

“C’mon, buddy!” Kate pulled Fergus over to a bench. A street mime was performing on the path, going through his routine. Something was always going on here.

In the end, Concerga, the Colombian guy from Paz, the one everybody wanted, had fled the country before trial. The other, Trujillo, was released, because with the key witness gone, the government could not make its case. Harold Kornreich was convicted. Dad’s friend. That’s why her family has been ripped apart. Her father put in jail. Dad’s golfing buddy … he was in a federal prison now, serving twenty years.

Kate glanced at the time. It was already after eight. She had to be at the lab by nine-thirty. She had to get going. She watched the performer a minute more, breaking off a piece of a PowerBar to boost her sugar level. Fergus seemed amused as well.

“He is good, yes?”

The voice came from the bench across from them, startling Kate. A man with a trim, graying beard, in a rumpled corduroy jacket and a flat golfing hat. A newspaper sat on his lap. Kate had seen him in the park a few times before.

“I am not sure I know this breed.” He smiled and gestured toward Fergus. When he leaned forward and motioned the dog over, Fergus, who didn’t have a wary bone in his body, happily obliged.

“It’s called a Labradoodle,” Kate answered. “It’s a cross between a golden Lab and a poodle.”

The man cupped Fergus’s face. “All these new things … Something else to be hopelessly out of touch with. I thought it was merely the Internet.” He smiled.

Kate smiled, too. She thought she detected some kind of accent. Anyway, Fergus seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“I’ve seen you here from time to time,” he said. “My name is Barretto. Chaim, now that we’re old friends.”

“I’m Kate,” Kate replied. The WITSEC people had warned her to always be cautious and never reveal her last name. But this guy … She felt a little foolish keeping her distance. He was harmless. “I think you already know Fergus.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Kate.” The man bowed politely. He took Fergus’s paw. “And you, too, my friend.”

They went back to watching the mime for a moment, and then he said something to her that caught her completely off guard.

“You’re a diabetic, Miss Kate, are you not?”

Kate looked at him. She felt herself grab hold of Fergus’s leash a bit more tightly. A tingle of nerves coursed down her spine.

“Please, don’t be alarmed.” The man tried to smile. “I didn’t mean to be forward. It’s just that I’ve seen you from time to time and noticed you checking yourself after you run. Occasionally you’ll take out a piece of something sweet. I didn’t mean to frighten you. My wife, she was diabetic, that’s all.”

Kate relaxed and felt a little ashamed. It riled her that she had to react this way, so guarded toward people she didn’t know. The guy was just reaching out, that’s all. And just this once, it actually felt nice to open up to someone.

“How is she,” Kate asked, “your wife?”

“Thank you,” the man said fondly, “but she’s been gone a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate said, meeting his twinkling eyes.

The street performer finished. Everyone gave him a polite round of applause. Kate stood up and checked her watch. “I’m afraid I’ve got to get going, Mr. Barretto. Maybe I’ll bump into you again.”

“I hope so.” The old man doffed his cap. Then, for the second time, he said something that made her insides clutch.

“And buenos días to you, too, Fergus.”

Kate did her best to smile, starting to back away, her heart quickening. Cavetti’s voice was never far from her thoughts: “If something ever seems suspicious, Kate, just get out of there.…”

She reined in Fergus’s leash. “Come on, big guy, we’ve got to get home.”

Kate headed toward the entrance to the park, telling herself not to look back. But as she approached the Avenue C gate, she glanced around.

The man had put his glasses on and gone back to reading his newspaper.

You can’t go through life being nervous of everyone, she admonished herself. He’s older than your father, Kate!