Hauck drove into Aspen and checked into the Hotel Jerome. He figured as long as he was out here, while he figured out his next step, why not enjoy the stay. The Jerome was a famous, redbrick building on Main Street, a holdover from Aspen’s nineteenth-century mining heyday. Its brass-trimmed, Old West-style lobby combined the charm of old Aspen with a trendier, modern-day style and crowd.
Besides, Hauck had been there before and liked the bar.
He checked in, sent out some clothes to be express washed for the next day, took a long shower, and put on the one clean shirt he had left. Then he headed down to the bar. He ordered a Stoli on the rocks with olives. He was able to finally decompress from all that had happened today.
“Crazy day?” the bartender asked. He seemed in his forties, handsome, fit. His idea of a crazy day was likely when his mountain bike suffered a flat.
Hauck shook his head and laughed. “You don’t have any idea.”
He noticed four women at a table in bright-colored tops, short leather jackets, and stylish jeans. The sound of southern accents. Texas, he was thinking. Probably a girls’ weekend. One of them, a pretty brunette in a leopard-print top, seemed to glance over a couple of times, catching his eye.
His mind drifted to Naomi. She was the third woman he had gotten involved with in the past five years. First, there was Karen. Together they had searched for her husband, Charlie, a hedge fund manager who had engineered his own disappearance in the smoke and chaos of a Metro-North train bombing. After a year together, she’d gone back to Virginia to take care of her dad, which had pretty much broken Hauck’s heart at the time. Then Annie, who still had her restaurant in town, and her son, Brandon, who had Down syndrome and whom Hauck still took skating every once in a while.
Then Naomi. If you could even call what they had being involved.
The brunette in the drapey leopard top kept looking his way. They were probably out in Aspen for some fun. He signaled to the bartender for another. Hauck needed a meal badly. He’d have him recommend a restaurant.
His cell phone sounded.
Hauck looked at the screen and saw that it was from Talon.
It was awfully late back home. Maybe Foley had come back with something on Alpha after all. He took the phone and went to an empty corner in the bar area where no one would hear. “Tom, it’s after ten back there …” he answered.
“Well, things don’t just stop just because you’re lazing your way out there in Colorado.”
“Not exactly how I would describe it,” Hauck said, “but … Any chance you found out anything on what I asked?”
“To be truthful,” his boss replied, “I can’t say I tried.”
“Oh.” There was a seriousness in Foley’s voice. This had the earmarks of a different kind of conversation altogether. “What’s going on?”
“Ty, I have to be frank. I’ve spoken with the executive committee. We all feel this sabbatical of yours has to come to an end.”
“I’m sorry that’s the way you look at it, Tom.”
“How else are we supposed to look at it? We’ve extended ourselves for you a good deal now. We’ve tried to be flexible. We’re running a business here, son, not a wellness clinic. I know you went through a rough patch and you had a little soul-searching to do. But that time is up now.”
“Sounds like there’s an ultimatum coming here …”
“Call it whatever you want. I would simply say it’s a reality check. We want you back to work here. Tomorrow. The day after, the latest. This thing you’re on out there has got to come to an end. If not—and the choice is yours, son—we’ll have no option but to nullify your partnership agreement with the firm. You’re an asset here, Ty. But only if you’re here. I’ve sent you an email putting all this in writing, so there’s no misunderstandings.”
In writing … “No misunderstandings, Tom. Except only a couple of days ago you were willing to check into Alpha for me, and whether you knew anyone out here who could help. What’s changed?”
“What’s changed is that it’s time to put this whole thing behind you, Ty, that’s all. And come back home.”
“Six people are dead out here, Tom. If you knew what happened today, you’d—”
“Look, that all sounds bad and I’m sorry for them,” Foley said, cutting him off. “I really am. But there are agencies to look into that. Police. We have our own things to get done here, and we’ve met, and we’re united in how we feel about it. You find your way back here, and let’s get on to doing great things. Or we revoke your agreement—I think we’re long past the clause that says you execute your job ‘in a timely, accepted manner’—and that’s that. I’ll give you the night to sleep on it. As long as you realize, there’s an awful lot you’d be throwing away. Do I need to repeat any part of this, Ty?”
“No, no need to repeat a word of it, Tom. It’s all perfectly clear.” Hauck knew that Foley’s patience had been running thin. But revoking his partnership? Forcing him to come back. Tomorrow? Something surely had changed. “I guess how I’m reading it is, it was okay to go off and get myself shot up and my life threatened when it involved company business. But it’s not okay if there’s nothing to be gained.”
“I’m not exactly sure that’s quite how I would put it, Ty. I tend to think of it as doing the smart thing for your career and keeping that young niece of yours, or whatever she is, safe, which is where I might put my priorities right now.”
Hauck didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Ty. Is there any part of what I said you need me to go over?”
“No, Tom. I think everything’s perfectly clear.”
“Then I’ll look forward to your reply. Say by noon. Tomorrow. I know you’re two hours behind out there.”
“That’s awfully considerate of you, Tom.”
“If we don’t hear from you by then, we’ll consider our agreement void. Think long and hard on it tonight, son. I hope you make the right choice.”