Finn tore the page out, then looked at the previous pages, but could decipher nothing of interest. There were a handful of comments about the Cayman Islands, which Finn knew would be a false lead—he doubted anyone from BGS had ever set foot there—and a line in which he’d written Karasek—mafia?, but the barely legible script didn’t offer Finn anything he didn’t know.
Possibly, Jonas had understood that, too. That was why he’d written only the final two pieces of information in capitals. By the time he’d done that, he might well have suspected they were on to him, so much so that he’d had time to share only the bare facts.
“Well?”
Finn looked up at her and nodded, and held up the torn page, saying, “If this is right, it gives me the first step.” She looked ready to ask another question, but he cut her off. “I’m not teasing anymore, Hailey. I don’t believe for a minute that you’re in any danger right now, but these people are so tightly wound that they killed a teenager for digging into their whereabouts. People that afraid are unpredictable, so I just don’t want you being involved any more than you already are.”
She still looked ready to object, but backed down and said, “Okay. Do you think I could keep the notebook, just as something to remember him by?”
He held it out. “I don’t see why not, as long as his parents don’t mind.”
She took the Moleskine and Finn turned out the light, and they went back up to the Frosts’ apartment. Sam opened the door, looking expectant, and it was Hailey who said, “We found it. He’d thrown it into a corner.” She handed the book over to Sam, who looked at it sadly, perhaps seeing its discovery as the final proof that Jonas really had been murdered.
He looked back up at Finn and said, “Did it have anything useful?”
“I’ve torn one page out, something that should help me a lot. I won’t say more than that for now.”
Sam nodded. “How’s the face?”
“Stings a little, might have a bruise in the morning. Nothing serious.”
Hailey glanced between the two of them, trying to make sense of the exchange, studying Finn’s face and seeing nothing. If nothing was visible now, maybe it wouldn’t bruise.
She appeared ready to speak, but before she could, Sam held out the book again and said, “Hailey, I know you bought this for Jonas for Christmas, and he loved it. Would you like to keep it? You know you can have something else from his room, any keepsake you want.”
She nodded and took the book back, and now Finn understood why she’d asked for it. She appeared unable to speak, but kissed Sam on the cheek and walked through into the apartment, presumably to say her goodbyes. Finn realized he hadn’t seen Alice at all.
“Would you like to come in, Finn?”
“No, thanks all the same. And you won’t see me again for a while, but that doesn’t mean I’m not doing anything.”
The words felt like an echo of what he’d said to Debbie and Ethan at some point in the week, except it was too late to do anything for the Frosts. There would be some retribution, but this problem would not be solved.
“Yeah, I get that.” He looked into Finn’s eyes for a moment, searching, and said, “Why are you doing this, Finn?”
Finn looked to the side, making sure that Hailey wasn’t on her way back, then said, “Honestly? A lot of reasons. I do feel angry about your son, and I do feel it was my fault in some way, but if I’m being straight, the fact that they killed Jonas makes me think they’ll never leave me alone unless I get to them first.”
He thought Sam might object to that admission, but he merely nodded. Perhaps an unsatisfactory explanation was better than none at all. And Finn had probably undersold himself—he was acting out of self-preservation, out of revenge for everything that had gone wrong in the past, but he was also acting out of conscience and a sense of moral outrage, traits that until that moment he’d believed he no longer possessed.
History
Karasek stared across the desk at him and said, “You have evidence, of course?”
“Of course.” But Finn didn’t move, just stared back. “I’m not sure that this is going to work though, Mr. Karasek, because you’re not being entirely professional.”
Karasek looked stung, and was clearly desperate to make a sharp reply, one that would no doubt come to him an hour or so from now.
In the absence of a decent comeback, he said, “Don’t screw around with me.”
“I know where the girl is, but I don’t know the place myself. I’ve never been there, I have no plans to go there. So your guys who are tailing me are doing it for no reason, but if my people spot them, then we’re both screwed.”
Karasek seemed more comfortable now that he knew what the problem was, and said, “Don’t get so rattled, Harrington. I thought people like you were used to being followed.”
“I’ll bring you the evidence you need by this time tomorrow. But if I see any of your guys following me, the whole thing’s off.”
“Relax, I’ll make sure you’re not followed any longer.”
Karasek was looking superior again, but Finn was playing the paranoid card to his own advantage. He made a point of still appearing on edge, suspicious, as if convinced he was missing something.