Don't Look Twice

by Andrew Gross

  Plans…

  “I’m spending the morning at the Hope Street Mission in Stamford dishing out a little food,” Hauck said.

  “That’s good, Lieutenant, good. What about after?”

  “After… I may head up and visit my brother. I may just stick around and watch the game…”

  Munoz stood there for a second, nodding. Then he shrugged. “You know, there may be some crazy departmental regulation against this…but if you wanted to come by, we got a boatload of food, LT. If you don’t mind my relatives. We could open some beer. We got the plasma. You know Rosa would love to have you. Little Anthony never shuts up about you since you got him that David Wright baseball…”

  Hauck smiled. He had gotten it at a community service golf outing and given it to Freddy’s son, a die-hard Mets fan, for his confirmation. “I don’t know, Freddy…There probably is a regulation about that somewhere. But it’s nice of you to ask.”

  “You sure? I mean, it’s Thanksgiving, man. Everyone’s gotta have themselves some turkey on Thanksgiving.”

  “Say hi to the family for me. And don’t you worry about the turkey, I’ll work something out.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Thanksgiving morning, Hauck woke around eight.

  The day was crisp and bright. Hauck had a coffee on the deck overlooking the sound, for a day trying to push the case out of his mind.

  He threw on an Under Armour top and went out for a jog along Hope Cove and the empty marina. When he got back there was a message waiting on the machine.

  Karen.

  “I’m calling to wish you a happy Thanksgiving, Ty…!”

  She said how the kids were down there and that her dad wanted to say hello. “We’re already at work here making a carrot soup and stuffing the turkey—my mom’s acting like a crazy person as usual. And we’re gonna watch a little football later. Hopefully, someone here will clue me in on who’s even playing, right?

  “Well, you’re not answering and I hope you’re out there doing something very un-Ty-like, like maybe going to visit your brother or even having a good time. LOL, babe…You give my best to Jessie. And, oh, I almost forgot—Tobey says hi too…He says he liked it a whole lot more when you were doing the cooking!” She paused. “I’m sorry not to be with you, Ty…I do always think of you. I hope you’re well and will have yourself a nice day. I’ll try to call you later. Bye, there…”

  Hauck thought just how sweet it felt to hear the sound of her voice, even considered calling her back. He got as far as picking up the phone before something held him back and he replaced it on the receiver and went in to take a shower.

  He spent the morning dishing food at the Hope Street Mission in town with Reverend Alvin Bailey, who years back was his teammate at Greenwich High. In the afternoon he just sat around and watched the Giants and the Cowboys duke it out on TV, downed a beer or two, wondering whether he should have picked up the phone and gone up to his sister’s in Massachusetts. His thoughts went to the case. To what Vern had said. Bothers me just fine! And how frustrated he was not to be able to make a connection between Sanger and Kramer.

  He turned back to the game. For Christ’s sake, it’s Thanksgiving, Ty.

  Around three, the phone rang again. This time, Jessie. She seemed sad to find him at home.

  “I should be there with you, Daddy. I shouldn’t have let you be alone.”

  “No, you’re doing the right thing, hon. Your mom was right.”

  “You could come down here. Scott’s parents are here. Everyone’s in the family room playing Scrabble with the twins and looking through old albums. It’s Grandparent Central here.”

  “Sounds about what Thanksgiving is supposed to be, Jess.”

  “So how come you didn’t go up to Uncle Warren’s?”

  “We’re all gonna be together Christmas. We’ll go up and there and see your cousins. That’s a promise, okay?”

  “You’re being a grouch, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not being a grouch,” Hauck said. “It just didn’t work out.”

  “You miss Karen, don’t you, Dad?”

  “Yeah. A little, baby doll.”

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you too, Jess. Thanks for calling. Chin up for the old folks. You be sure and say hi to everyone for me.”

  “Bye.”

  Hauck leaned back on the couch thinking just how much he loved her and how maybe she was right, just a little. He watched the game until close to seven and the Giants had pulled off a pretty good fourth-quarter comeback, and a restlessness started to rise in him. About Karen (how no matter how she tried to hide it in her tone, what they had was definitely gone between them, in the past); about how his case had stalled—not stalled, more like vaporized. Then to how all the people in the world he felt most connected to were so far away.

  You gotta get outta here, Ty, before you explode…

  He went into the bathroom and shaved. Threw on a nice shirt over cords and a tweed jacket. He didn’t know where he was heading, just out. Maybe drive up to Warren’s. Knock on the door. Imagining the look of total shock. Hey, Ty, what are you doing here?

  Or up to Munoz’s. Everyone’s gotta have themselves some turkey on Thanksgiving, right?

  As he went out the door and headed down the stairs, it occurred to him he had no idea where he was heading, feeling alternately foolish and frustrated, his own words coming back to haunt him.

  I’ll figure something out.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  The answer hit him as he drove along Elm, heading toward the thruway.

  He passed the familiar sign and spun a U-ey into the parking lot. There were a couple of cars there. He turned off the engine and asked himself if he wanted to do this, giving himself a chance to back out. The little voice, the one that always got him in trouble, answered, Why the hell not?

  Everyone’s gotta have turkey on Thanksgiving!

  Hauck hadn’t heard from her since his last time here. He knew his warning to Vega had worked.

  He pulled open the wood door and stepped inside Annie’s restaurant.

  A vase of hydrangeas in a vase brightened the entrance.

  Hauck caught sight of her through the open kitchen. She was wearing a white chef’s jacket, her hair tied up in a blue kerchief. She was dotting a plate of pie with a flourish. She looked up and did a double take as she saw him.

  He waved.

  A waiter in a white apron came up to him apologetically. “I’m sorry, but we just finished for the night.”

  “That’s okay,” Hauck said. He looked toward the kitchen. “I just came by to say hi.”

  Annie smiled back through the window, shrugging widely as if to say, What’s going on…?

  The waiter, seeing they knew each other, said, “Sure.”

  There were only a couple of tables filled. Each looked like they were finishing up. Hauck took a seat at the bar.

  A short while later Annie came around, removed her kerchief, and shook out her short black hair. “So you’ve finally come by to give me that protection, Lieutenant…”

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Hauck said.

  “Happy Thanksgiving to you. I don’t have to be worried, do I?” She feigned a look of concern. “You’re not expecting some kind of holiday attack here, are you?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “No.”

  “Whew. You don’t look like you’re exactly dressed for duty, so okay, I’ll bite. What does bring you in?”

  Hauck shrugged. “How about some turkey?”

  Annie screwed up her brow. “Turkey?”

  “I don’t have it wrong…It is Thanksgiving, isn’t it?”

  Annie laughed. “You may not believe this, Lieutenant, but you may have picked the one restaurant in America that doesn’t actually serve turkey on Thanksgiving.”

  “You’re joking.” Hauck shifted around and glanced at the sparsely filled restaurant. “You, um, may want to rethink that plan next year.”

  An
nie arched her brows. “And I see you’ve brought your stand-up routine too. Tell me, you think anyone really looking for a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving would end up coming here?”

  “I did.” Hauck shrugged foolishly.

  Annie looked at him. “Don’t you have a family to go to or something? Didn’t I see a couple of kids on the desk when I was in your office?”

  “A daughter.” Hauck nodded. “She’s with her mom. In Brooklyn.”

  “My son, he’s with my folks back in California.” Annie sat next to him on a stool. “Two peas in a pod, huh? So you’re looking for turkey? What a traditionalist.” She said, “Gimme a minute to look around. I’ll see what I can do.”

  A short while later, she came back with a neatly arranged plate that smelled sensational to Hauck.

  “This is only because you did such a kick-ass job of getting those people off me,” she said. “Turkey quesadilla, with peppers and a tomatillo coulis. A side of root vegetable ratatouille. We had some sitting around to use in salads for lunch. Maybe not exactly what the pilgrims had in mind…”

  “It’s great.” Hauck smiled, digging in. “Thanks.”

  “Not so shabby, huh?” Annie took off her jacket and apron and had on jeans and a tight-fitting tee. She had a cute, pixie-like figure and a smile like a Caribbean sunset now that it was free of worry. “Mazel tov. So now I’ll bite…What exactly are you doing here?”

  “I told you, I live nearby. I wanted to come in and try the place.”

  “So you decided on Thanksgiving? At seven thirty?”

  Hauck cut into his quesadilla. “It was an impulse. And this is great, by the way…”

  “Tough order.” Annie rolled her eyes. “Turkey on Thanksgiving…”

  She pulled up a stool. Hauck ordered a Belgian Duvel beer and Annie took a sauvignon blanc. “I don’t mean to talk shop,” she asked, “but I heard on the news you still haven’t caught those people.”

  “No.” Hauck took a sip of beer and they clinked glasses. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers. Well, whatever magic you did worked. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of any bad guys since.”

  “How’s the Bridgeport clientele holding up?”

  “A little soft.” Annie smiled. “Ran out of red bandanas. But that’s okay.”

  He coated a forkful of turkey in the sauce.

  “Try the ratatouille.” Annie nudged him. “It’s a ten.”

  “Anyway, the good news is,” he said, “I’m not sure you’re gonna need to get involved any deeper. When we’ve got someone in custody, you can come in and take a look at a lineup. You won’t have to testify. Just a deposition will do. You shouldn’t have to worry about having to get up on a stand.”

  “I appreciate that, Lieutenant.”

  They talked for a few more minutes while Hauck finished. She asked about his family. Hauck told her that he was divorced. He didn’t mention Norah. She said her son was nine. Jared. Back in California. Hauck didn’t probe.

  “It’s a little complicated. I hope to have him here soon. Truth is, I haven’t always made the best choices.”

  “No monopoly on that,” Hauck said.

  Annie nodded. “No. I know. I had a restaurant back in the wine country that fell apart. The guy I was married to, he did some things. Both to me and the business. I lost everything. I had to give up custody. I had to show them I was on my feet, which was why I was such a head case not to get involved. I’m hoping to bring Jared here in December.”

  “Good for you,” Hauck said.

  Behind them, the two occupied tables got up and went to the door. Annie wheeled around and thanked them both. “Happy Thanksgiving.” She waved. “See, satisfied customers all around.”

  Her staff had started breaking down the kitchen. Jason the waiter went around and collected the table settings.

  “I think I’d better go,” Annie said. “I promised I would break down the kitchen tonight. Only way I could get any of them to come in.”

  “I understand,” Hauck said. “You were an angel. How much is all this?”

  “Oh, come on.” Annie waved. “How can I charge you? After coming to my rescue. You can bring your whole department in. Christmas, maybe?”

  Hauck laughed. He drank up the last of his beer and got up. “Christmas.”

  “Question,” Annie said.

  “Shoot.”

  “What is it you go by when you’re not called ‘lieutenant,’ Lieutenant?”

  “‘Detective’ generally works.”

  Annie stared back, not sure if he was teasing.

  Hauck grinned from the door. “You can also try Ty, too!”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Monday, the first thing Hauck did was meet with Vern, inform him of the decision he’d come to.

  Then he got his crew together.

  Everyone had been in kind of a holding pattern since he’d come back from the Pequot Woods. He brought them up to date on Raines. The video he had shown him of Sanger, the false shuffle, along with the inference that Sanger and Kramer were involved in some kind of betting scam. He left out the part about Josie and the photographs.

  “So what do you want to do?” Freddy Munoz asked.

  Hauck sat on the edge of a desk and looked at him. “I want to get my hands on a copy of those tapes.”

  “You think they’re gonna give them up like that? They’re trying to scare you off the case, LT, not make it for you.”

  “Tell ’em if they don’t, they’ll be getting a subpoena from the state attorney general.”

  Steve Chrisafoulis snickered. “Assuming, of course, no one happens to get to him first.”

  There were a few laughs around the room.

  Munoz said, “That is the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it, LT?”

  “No, the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is why these people are trying to scare us off.” Hauck turned to Steve. “I want you to pull up everything you can about TRV Gaming and Armbruster.” The parent companies of the Pequot Woods. “I want to know who helped them get the deals and who ushered through their gaming licenses. The board of directors, overseers…I want to know if their paths crossed with anyone who ties in to this case. Sanger, Vega…”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “And, Steve…” He took the detective aside. “That includes James Sculley and Stan Taylor too.” The detective’s eyes widened. “I want to know what these people are hiding,” Hauck said.

  “So, we’re going after them?” Freddy Munoz said. “I mean, just to be clear, LT?”

  “Yeah.” Hauck pushed himself off the desk. “We’re going after them, Freddy. To be clear.”

  When he got back to his office, the phone was ringing. He glanced out front. His secretary, Brenda, was away from her desk.

  He picked it up and held it in the crook of his neck. “Hauck here…”

  “Lieutenant, I’m glad I reached you,” a voice said, surprised he had picked up his own phone. “My name is Tom Foley. I’m a managing partner in a company called the Talon Group. You may have heard of it? We’re an international private security firm.”

  “I know the Talon Group.” Hauck sat down. They were involved with providing security to the government staff in Iraq. As well as internal corporate security matters. “What can I do for you, Mr. Foley?”

  “I have something that may be of interest to you. I was hoping I could buy you lunch.”

  “How urgent are we talking?” Talon was big. They advised a lot of companies on the scale of the Pequot Woods. Hauck was wondering how this fit in.

  “How does one P.M. work? Today.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  They met at the Stanwich Country Club, out on North Street, which stayed open in the winter for lunches and maybe some paddle tennis. The club had a sprawling championship golf course.

  Hauck had been there once, to help with security when Colin Powell had spoken there.

  Foley was tall, thin lipped, light complexioned, with receding blond ha
ir and an Ivy League air. He met Hauck at the entrance in a business suit and took him through the portrait-lined lobby up to the dining room. “Glad you were able to come on such short notice, Lieutenant.”

  Hauck shook his hand. “I was about to just catch a sandwich at my desk.”

  Only a handful of tables were filled in the large room overlooking the empty course. A couple of men in business discussions; two or three well-heeled members’ wives doing lunch.

  “Beautiful,” Hauck said, looking over the closed course admiringly.

  “You a golfer?” Foley asked.

  “Some. I was hoping this lunch came with a rain check for eighteen holes attached to it.” Hauck laughed.

  “You never know.” The security partner smiled. “It just might. Okay if I call you Ty?”

  Hauck shrugged. “Sure.”

  At the table, Foley ordered a gin and tonic for himself, while Hauck took a Diet Coke.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Workday,” he said, trying to feel the man out. “You said you had something of interest to me pertaining to the case…”

  “Many cases.” The security executive smiled. “I’ve watched you on TV. The Grand Central bombing thing…You managed to make it above the radar. Cheers.” Foley tilted his glass.

  Hauck was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. The guy had something to divulge. Talon was the kind of firm the Pequot Woods might well be involved with. It also had the rehearsed, nuanced feel of another warning.

  “So you’ve heard of us,” Foley said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Tell me what you know.”

  Hauck stumbled through the most obvious cases he had read in the papers or heard on TV. Corporate work, government contracts. Iraq.

  “Yes, we have a side that does protective field work. But we leave that for the soldiers of fortune. The vast majority of what we do is perfectly benign. Forensic accounting, data mining for security purposes. Corporate espionage security. Some investigative work. You were a detective with the NYPD, I recall…”