“Speaking of Rusty, I’m going on an operation with the Secret Service tonight,” Keller says. “Want to come?”
Atticus’s face lights up. “Heck yeah.”
Keller briefs him on her call with the Secret Service agent, and Rusty Whitaker’s suspected participation in a cigarette counterfeiting ring.
They park in the pier’s spacious lot. The air smells not of the sea, but of industry—they call it the “Chemical Coast” for a reason.
A man walks ahead of them, carrying a pole and tackle box.
“I never took to fishing,” says Atticus. “My father and I went one time, and that was all I needed.”
Keller regards him in his skinny-tailored suit. He certainly doesn’t scream outdoorsman.
“I went fishing, hunting, camping, we did it all,” Keller says. “My father wanted a boy.”
Truth be told, her dad, a high-powered lawyer, isn’t much of an outdoorsman either. But in his worldview, men need to do such things. He and his law partners and clients get dressed up in hunting getups and go on retreats. When she was younger, Keller enjoyed experiencing the great outdoors with her dad, the only meaningful time she’d ever spent with him. Then came the affair with his secretary, the divorce, and the move from the city to Tenafly with her mom. When she graduated from college, her dad wanted her to go to law school, follow in his Big Law footsteps. And he didn’t hide his disappointment when she chose the Bureau; he viewed agents as the help. But the final straw, the thing that broke their relationship, was his reaction to Bob. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that her narcissistic father would not take to a man so unlike himself.
Atticus points to a fisherman at the far end of the pier. “Grosso’s wife said he’d have on a ridiculous fishing hat with lures all over it, so that’s probably him.”
The man wears the hat, but also has the unmistakable gait of a cop. Keller can’t describe it—it’s one of those know-it-when-you-see-it things.
Her phone chimes. At long last, it’s the dreaded call from Stan.
“Can you give me a minute?” she asks Atticus.
“Sure. I’ll get things started with Grosso if that’s okay?”
Keller nods as she walks out of earshot.
“I’m told you have more than a million views on YouTube,” Stan says without pleasantries.
Keller braces for what is going to be an unpleasant call.
CHAPTER 29
Tony Grosso smokes a cigarette, not bothering to put it out when pregnant Keller joins the conversation.
She regards the retired cop. As Grosso’s wife warned, he wears a lure-covered fisherman’s hat. He has a lined face covered in stubble.
Keller considers reminding him that tobacco smoke isn’t good for unborn children, but she doesn’t want to break any rapport Atticus has built, so she positions herself upwind instead.
Atticus gestures his chin to the cigarette tucked in Gross’s fingers, then to Keller’s belly. “You mind?”
“Oh, god, sorry.” Grosso crushes the cigarette on a plank of the pier.
Keller gives a nod of thanks, then introduces herself. Apologizes for taking a call before joining them. Stan’s call didn’t take long. It was as direct and efficient as Stan himself. In his dry way, he implored Keller to try not to rile up the locals; to focus on Whitaker, not the new murder case; and for the love of God, try to not go viral for the rest of the week.
“Catch anything?” she asks Grosso, eyeing the rod jutting from a stand built into the pier, the slack line blowing in the breeze.
“Nothing yet. I rarely catch much. But it gets me out of the house. It’s been nearly fifteen years since I retired, but my wife’s still adjusting to me being home all the time.”
Keller offers a transient smile. “I don’t want to repeat any ground you guys already covered about Blockbuster…”
“We just got started,” Atticus says. “I was just catching up Detective Grosso on doings at the office.”
“Hard to believe the division has gotten so big. I retired pretty young—got my twenty-five years when I was only fifty—but all my friends have retired or moved on. I see in the papers that Hal’s still hanging on.”
“That, he is,” Atticus says.
“He got the big job after I left. It was one of the few times the powers that be got something right.”
Keller presses forward. “We’ll try not to take too much of your time.”
“I got all the time in the world. But I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. We closed that file a long time ago. It was my last major case, but my memory isn’t what it used to be. But I’ll try. Fire away.”