Free Vanished by Joseph Finder Page B

reasons and not on business.”
    “Right,” I said.
    He sneezed, pulled out a crumpled handkerchief, blew his nose loudly. He sneaked a surreptitious glance at the contents of his handkerchief before crumpling it back up and stuffing it into his pants. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have come in to work today, and now you’re gonna catch this damned thing.”
    “I don’t get sick,” I said.
    “Bad luck to say that. Now you’re really gonna get hit bad.”
    “I’m not superstitious either,” I said. “Where’s your partner? Scorpino? Scardino?”
    “Scarpino. Tony’s on another case. He’s been reassigned.”
    I knew what that meant. The case had been deemed low-priority. Only one cop on it now.
    “Thanks for taking the time to see me,” I said. Cops are overworked and underpaid, overstressed and undervalued, and I always try to let them know I appreciate them. They also tend to be resentful of people who do roughly the same work they do but get paid a lot more. I can’t blame them.
    He sneezed again. “Ah, Jeez,” he said. He took out his handkerchief and went through his ritual all over again, right down to the furtive inspection.
    “I’m grateful for everything you’re doing to find my brother. I want to help anyway I can.”
    “You and your brother are pretty close, huh?”
    He peered at me for a few seconds over the rim of his coffee mug. The thick lenses of his eyeglasses magnified his eyes, made them look weird, like some space alien’s. If I had been guilty of something, I would definitely have been intimidated. He was probably quite effective in interrogations.
    I shook my head. “Not in years.”
    “Must be hard, living in the same town and all.”
    “We travel in different circles.”
    “Uh-huh.” He put down his mug, turned his chair to face his computer monitor. “How about you and Mrs. Heller? Don’t get along with her either?”
    “We get along great. I like her kid.”
    “ Her kid? You mean, their kid?”
    “Well, Roger’s stepson. But Roger’s been his dad since Gabe was two or three.”
    “So you’re in touch with her?”
    “From time to time. Gabe and I talk about once a week.”
    The thought crossed my mind that he might consider me a suspect. Ex–Special Forces, which meant that I was capable of scary stuff. Unmarried and not currently in a relationship. So naturally I must have conspired with my brother’s wife to kill her husband and set this whole elaborate thing up.
    But fortunately he didn’t seem to be going down that path. “She ever talk about their marriage?”
    “No. She and I don’t really have that kind of relationship.”
    “I assume your brother never talked about that sort of stuff with you either.”
    “Right.”
    “So there could be serious problems between the two of them that you might not know about.”
    “Theoretically, sure. But I’d probably have noticed.”
    “Any drug use?”
    “Not that I know of.”
    He tapped at his keyboard. “Do you know if he was involved with bookies?”
    “Bookies? Roger? I don’t think he’s ever seen a horse race. Lieutenant, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
    “What tree should I be barking up, Mr. Heller?”
    “My brother was involved in some complicated financial arrangements at Gifford Industries. The stakes are pretty high—business partners, competitors, all that. Wouldn’t surprise me if he made some enemies. Bad actors.”
    “He have any enemies that you know of?”
    “I don’t want to give you carpal tunnel syndrome.”
    “That many, huh?”
    “Roger has an abrasive manner. I’m sure he pissed people off all the time.”
    “Maybe the wrong people.”
    “Could be.”
    “People he’d want to run away from.”
    “It’s possible.” I watched him tap at the keys for a few seconds, then said, “I assume you’ve flagged all his credit-card accounts.”
    He typed a while longer, sniffled, then turned to me. “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.” His sarcasm was bone-dry. I