I should have slept. Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed with the lamp off and decided it was time to keep the promise I’d made to myself.
I’d drafted a message on the plane, in my head. It was time to type it into my phone.
Rook:Daniel. A request about the piece. Leave Varga out of it. Don’t call him, don’t quote him, nothing with his name near it. The rest of theroom is fine. I’ll give you whatever you need in the second session to cover the gap. This one thing isn’t negotiable for me.
I sent it and set the phone on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed in the dark with my forearms on my knees.
The phone lit up.
Kovac:Understood. He’s out—no call, no mention. You have my word.
The dots came back. He had more to say.
Kovac:For what it’s worth: he was the interview I was looking forward to. Everyone in that room talks about you. He’s the only one I expected to actually answer my question. Goodnight, Mattias.
The only one I expected to actually answer the question.That was the whole point. Varga’s answer was the threat.
It was 2:25 in the morning. I looked at the thread with Varga.
Varga:when we hit Buffalo. last night of the trip. stay till one. i want the hour
I was finally ready to answer. We would have one more night in Buffalo before heading home.
Rook:okay.
The dots came up immediately. He’d been lying in bed awake.
Varga:one oclock. no takebacks.
Chapter thirteen
Varga
We won three to two, with me playing distracted. I’d played sixteen minutes, and I couldn’t remember who had scored. Somewhere in the second period I said something to Rafe on the bench that made him do the silent laugh, and I don’t remember what it was.
That kind of distraction never happened to me before, not once in twenty years. Hockey was my thing since I learned to skate at six. It was the reason my family crossed an ocean.
One o’clock. No takebacks.
I had the first line of my speech ready.I love the life you built us. I want a bigger one.
”—because she finally sent the photo,“ Trier was saying, across the aisle on the team bus, holding his phone out at an angle that required my participation. “Look at him.”
I glanced at the screen. It was a cat asleep on the radiator. “He’s sleeping.”
“He’s alive, Varga. This is proof of life. In sixteen hours I’ll be home, and I’ll fire that woman.”
“You’re going to rehire her before Christmas.”
“Obviously, I’m going to rehire her. She’s the only one the cat tolerates. That’s not the point.” He pulled the phone back and gazed at the sleeping cat with a smile on his face. Then, without changing gears: “Oh — the writer called me back, by the way. Kovac. About the Rook stuff. He wanted to check a quote.”
“Which quote?”
“Actually, two. The married-couple one and the thermostat.” Trier grinned, very pleased with himself. “He’s done, he said. Talked to everybody he needed. Cross, me, Heath got twenty minutes, and even the kid got a call—Rafe, what did you tell the reporter?”
From two rows up, Rafe’s head leaned against the window. “That Rook works hard,” he said to the glass.
“Incredible. He gave him nothing. He’s perfect.” Trier went back to gazing at the cat.
