“Fair enough. I believe you. Where’s your friend Carhill now?”
“He left his parents’ home in Texas on Friday without saying where he was going. He was a wreck when we got him in Colombia. He’s thin by nature, but he was malnourished, covered in bites—scared as hell. He needs time to recuperate.” Ethan turned to the sugar maple in the front yard and gazed up at it, the sun having burned off most of the fog by now. “Ham knows that not very many people give a damn about him.”
“But you do,” Juliet said.
“He’d follow my brother and me around when he was a little tyke. His parents—”
When he didn’t go on, Juliet thought she understood. “They wanted him to be like you. He idolized you. Damn it, Ethan, how did he get mixed up with Bobby Tatro and national-security types?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, too.”
“If it’s true that Carhill was in New York in late August—” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully before continuing, “If he was in trouble, in over his head, would he come to you?”
“If he could find me.”
“News reports had you hooking up with me in August over the search for Libby Smith. You haven’t been that easy to find this past year. Maybe my source is right and Ham came to New York looking for you for some reason—”
“Such as?”
“Maybe he knew he was in over his head and was turning to you for help.”
That seemed to make sense to Ethan. “It’s possible.”
“Bobby Tatro was out of prison by then, stalking me. If he saw your guy—” She stopped herself, frowning. “But how would Tatro know who he was?”
“Someone told him.”
“Mia O’Farrell?”
“No. I don’t think so. She’s got a source, but whoever it is got in touch with her before Tatro was released from prison.”
“She won’t tell you who it is?”
He gave her that wry smile again.
Juliet sighed. “Ah. Yes. You’re just a soldier.”
“I doubt Tatro figured out Ham on his own. It’d be difficult to put a name and a face together out on the street like that, even with people you’ve seen before. And Ham’s a Carhill. There aren’t many pictures of him floating around in public, none recent.”
“So, Tatro had help figuring out who Ham was.”
Ethan obviously didn’t like the idea any better than Juliet did, but he said nothing.
“How convenient,” Juliet went on, “that you don’t need a picture to recognize him. And you happen to be a Special-Forces type who could also rescue him.”
“That’s a lot to swallow in one mouthful.”
“Sure is. You happen to be a Special-Forces officer. Your very smart, very wealthy friend and neighbor in Texas happens to get mixed up in national security. An ex-con who has it in for me happens to snatch him.”
“Yes, Deputy,” Ethan said, gritting his teeth. “A lot of coincidences.”
Juliet didn’t back off. “Did Ham start doing covert work, or whatever he was doing, to impress you?”
“I didn’t ask him.”
“But what do you think?”
“Maybe it was a factor. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I agreed to get a team together and go rescue him. So that’s what I did.” Ethan dropped his feet to the floor and stood, his face lost in the shade and the shadows. “What else do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
He stared at her, then grinned. “You don’t intimidate easily, do you?”
“Were you trying to intimidate me?”
“No, but I wasn’t not trying to, either.”
“I’ve got five big brothers. They’re all tall, they’re all frank—”
Ethan took both her hands into his and lowered his face to hers, his eyes flinty with intensity and a flash of humor. “I’m not your brother. In case you need reminding.”
He let her hands go and stepped back, and she took a breath and smiled at him. “Nope. No reminding necessary.”
He turned, his back to her, and looked out at the front lawn, shaded by two old sugar maples. “Mia O’Farrell gave me the tip that Ham was being held by someone who had a thing for a blond, female marshal.”
“It wasn’t any more specific?”
“No. Once we had an ID, it was enough to help us find Tatro, and therefore Ham.”
“Bobby’s not subtle, and he’s also very good-looking. He left a trail for you and the Colombian authorities and whoever else to follow. But now you’re wondering if we’ve all been manipulated. Even Tatro.”
“That’s a big, tangled ball of twine to unravel, Juliet.”
“Right now, we don’t have to. We just have to find Tatro. That’s one thing I like about fugitive investigations. I get a target, and I go after it. So—did the Carhills get a ransom demand for their son’s release?”
“Juliet.” Ethan looked around at her. “You’re going where I can’t take you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Did they pay it?”
He sighed. “Faye—Ham’s mother—says no.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much did the kidnappers demand?”
“Five million.”