THOUGH IT WERE TEN THOUSAND MILES

By Joan Stephens

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Chapter Four

Traveling mostly at night, Vincent marched through Mount Baker National Forest. With a wonderful feeling of freedom, he had walked the highways, moving off only when a vehicle approached. He marveled at the colors of the sunrise and sunset. The air had a marvelous, clean smell that filled him with a heady confidence that he would reach Catherine in time. Being early summer, the wild flowers were in bloom, the trees in full leaf. It was beautiful, it was overpowering, and it was everything Catherine had said it would be. The forest contained myriads of small animals and birds. Before he bedded down for the day, he was usually able to see many of the larger animals: deer, bear, coyotes, wolves, but they studiously avoided him as he had a strange odor of both man and animal about him. They didn’t trust the man smell he exuded. If not for the pressing need to return to Catherine, he would have thoroughly enjoyed himself. The warmth of the sun did amazing things to his body that he had never felt before. The coolness of the shade was a delight much different from the constant coolness of the tunnels. He could easily lose himself in the woods forever but for the siren call of the woman he loved reaching out to him through the bond.  

 

Skirting many small towns, he made the food Sophie had given him last as long as possible but eventually it was gone, and he had been reduced to finding and taking, as Mouse would put it, what food he could find at isolated homesteads. It disturbed the moral sense that had been instilled in him from childhood, but his need far out weighed his ethics. At one of those homesteads just before he crossed into Idaho, he chanced upon a great treasure, a clothesline with freshly washed clothes hanging on it. Evidently the housewife had neglected to take them in. The jeans were out at the knee, and the shirt had been washed so often that it had reached that stage where it felt as soft as chamois, but they were dry and large enough to fit him. He quickly shed his tattered clothing and donned the fresh smelling jeans and flannel shirt after washing thoroughly in a nearby creek. He wished briefly for new boots, but hopefully the ones he was wearing would last awhile longer.  

 

About two weeks later, somewhere between Uniontown, WA and Lewiston, ID, he crossed into Idaho. The land he was striding through was mostly wilderness composed of tracks of forests and open meadows. He had abandoned the roads as they twisted and turned too much, adding miles to his journey. Free to walk during the day as the area seemed particularly devoid of human life, he was tramping through the open grassland when he suddenly felt a pair of eyes boring into his back. Spinning around, he found himself staring into the coal-black eyes of a man astride a beautiful gray and black Appaloosa. How had he missed sensing or hearing the man approach? The horse must have been as silent as the man. Tossing his head, the horse snorted at this strange smelling human in front of him.  

 

With no place to hide, Vincent stood calmly waiting for the mounted man to do something. Riding in a circle around him, the man stared at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What he saw was a half-man/half-beast: dirty, disheveled, tired yet unafraid. At last, the man pulled his horse to a stop in front of him.

 

“Quiet, Quick as Lightning,” the man said as he patted the horse on the neck, gentling it. The two men stared at each other for several seconds then the young man, for Vincent could see that he was somewhere in his mid-twenties, spoke, “What are you?” he asked. “Who are you? Are you an animal ancestor?” Dismounting, he stepped closer to Vincent. Dressed in blue jeans and a cotton shirt, he wore his long glossy, blue-black hair in braids with a leather thong tied around his head.  

 

“No, I am only what I am, nothing more. My name is Vincent. You are Indian?”

 

“Yes, I’m Nez Perce. Where you been, man? Haven’t you ever seen an Indian before?”

 

Shaking his head, the tired and hungry man explained, “No. “

 

The young man peered at him quizzically. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m trying to get back to my home, New York City. “

 

“New York!! You’re a long way from home, man. “

 

“I know. I mean you no harm. Please allow me to go on. “

 

The young man turned and, leading his horse behind him, took a few steps away from this strange man he had just met. He seemed to be considering what to do with Vincent. Making up his mind quickly, he turned back and extended his hand, saying, “My name is James Eagle Claw, and you are on the Nez Perce reservation. I would be honored if you would come with me to my village. The tribal council will want to talk with you. “

 

Vincent thought he could spare a few hours to meet with the tribal council. They might be able to help him but he was astounded by the invitation. “Won’t I frighten your people?” he asked, as he shook the proffered hand.  

 

“No, we have seen stranger things than you. Have you ever heard of Sasquatch? Many of my people claim they have seen one. “James answered, mounting his horse. “Are you sure you’re not one?” he asked with a grin. Then, giving his hand to Vincent, he said, “Ride behind me,” and pulled him up on the horse. Quick As Lightning shied a little but soon settled down. Vincent was captivated to be sitting astride a horse. One more event in his life that he had thought would never happen to him. They cantered off in a northeasterly direction.  

 

The village consisted of mobile homes and a few small houses. Facing the rising sun was a large building, a community hall, at the west end of the road that ran through the village. Quite a crowd collected around them as they cantered up to the front of the hall, all peering in wonder at the lion-faced man on the horse. People were running up from all directions as Vincent slid to the ground followed by James. They crowded around, staring at him, and the lion man could hear the word Sasquatch as they quietly murmured among themselves. One of the men shouted out, “What have you got there, James? Where did you find him?”

 

Vincent was becoming very uncomfortable and wondered if he would have to fight his way free of these people. He tensed, ready to fight if he had to when James said, ”Well, as you can see he appears to be a man only a little different. He’s trying to get back to his family in New York. I’m taking him to talk with the council. We owe him the hospitality of the village until the council decides what to do. “

 

This astounded them even more. He was from New York? One of the women asked if his family was like him and another wondered if there were Sasquatches there. Vincent assured them that there were no others like him and that to his best recollection there were no Bigfeet in New York.  

 

As he answered their questions, he noted that the men were dressed more or less like James, but that some of the people wore their hair loose, with leather bands around their heads or broad-brimmed cowboy hats. Most of the women wore cotton dresses of various hues and designs, creating a flower-like profusion of colors, but others wore jeans and brightly colored shirts. A little girl, not much more than four, emerged from the crowd and eased up to Vincent. Some of the men stiffened, ready to rush to her defense.  

 

“Is that real?” she asked, looking up into his golden-hued countenance.  

 

“Yes, it’s real,” he answered with a smile as he knelt and sat back on his heels.  

 

She reached out and touched his face and hair. There were chuckles coming from the crowd now and the men relaxed. “Oh, it’s so soft,” she whispered.  

 

“May I hold you?” he asked softly.  

 

“Sure,” she said, putting her arms around his neck. He rose to his feet, holding her gently in his arms. A look of pure joy came over his face and tears formed in his eyes as he thought of holding his own child. This act alone insured his welcome by the tribe.  

“You are a very pretty girl,” he told her. “Your mother and father must be very proud of you. “

 

“I know,” she solemnly nodded.  

 

One of the tribal members came out of the hall and whispered something to James then turned and reentered the building. “The elders are waiting, ”James interrupted the tender scene.  

 

Vincent put the little girl down, and she scampered back to her parents, giggling. As he and James entered the building, the crowd began to disperse.  

 

The interior of the building was decorated with buffalo shields, dream catchers, lances, bows, and beaded quivers filled with arrows. Across one end of the large rectangular room was a long table at which five older men and women were seated. In front of the table were several rows of folding chairs. James led Vincent to the front row and indicated that he should sit in the first chair. Vincent complied with a heavy sigh. It was good to sit down and rest.

 

Occupying the central chair, an older man with snow white hair and a weather beaten face from which gleamed kind, shrewd eyes smiled warily at Vincent and began, “My name is John Two Bears. I’m the current chief of this village. We are the tribal council. On my far right is Grace Thompson. Next to her is George Morgan. On my far left is Tom Buffalo Shield, then Joyce Hancock. “They all nodded to the tired man as they were named. “Tell us who you are and why you are here. Tell us of your life. “

 

“Thank you for being so kind to me and allowing me to rest before I move on. “This brought a smile to all of the council members as they nodded their pleasure at his decorum. “My name is Vincent Wells,” he continued. “I live in New York City in a world that is unknown the rest of the citizens. “

 

“There are others like you?” asked Grace Thompson, a heavyset woman in her fifties whose hair was still raven black.  

 

Vincent shook his head. “There are other people there but none like me. “

 

Tom Buffalo Shield leaned forward in curiosity. “How did you become like you are?” He was a rail thin man, deeply wrinkled, with a heavy cough and cigarette stains on his fingers.  

 

“I don’t know. No one does. I was found in the trash behind a hospital and taken to the man who became my father. He is the leader of our community. I grew up there. I suppose I would still be there if not for Catherine.“ His voice softened as he spoke her name.  

 

“Catherine?” Joyce Hancock, beautiful and well built, sat up in interest, “Who is she?”

 

“The woman I love who is carrying my child. My wife. “Again he told the small lie that his heart told him was true.  

 

“Ah, you want to be there for the birth,” Joyce commented.  

 

Vincent nodded, “Yes, but also to save her and the child from an evil man who plans to keep our child. “

 

“Why?” asked George Morgan, leather-skinned with deep sunk dark eyes and long gray braids.  

 

Shaking his head, Vincent said, “He seems to think I have some kind of power that I will pass on to my child. “He told them the whole story.

 

At the conclusion, John said, “You are welcome to stay here until you have rested and regained your strength. Then we will send you on your way with food and clothing. Hopefully, you will find your Catherine in time. “

 

“I will or die in the attempt,” Vincent replied.  

 

James spoke up. “John, I want to go with him for a while. By taking my truck, we can reach Wyoming quicker. I can take him to the Wind River Reservation. We can cut off about six hundred miles that way. “

 

“I think that’s a very good idea,” George concurred.  

 

“If that is what you want to do, it is all right with me,” John agreed.  

 

Vincent stood up. “I want to thank you for your kindness to me. Strangers are not always kind. Your acceptance of me is a wonderful change. I thank you again. “He shook hands with each one of them.  

 

***********************

 

James took him to a small vintage mobile home where, after a shower in the closet-sized bathroom, he sank onto the bed and slept the clock around. Hunger woke him. When he wandered into the little kitchen, he found food on the kitchen table. Ravenous, he ate as he shamelessly examined the mobile home. There was a living room in the front of the trailer with an old flowered sofa and one imitation leather recliner plus the ubiquitous TV, then the kitchen with a small table and two chairs, a tiny refrigerator, a three-burner stove, and a short counter with a paltry sink in it. On one side of the hall that led to the bedroom was a closet and opposite that was the tiny bathroom with a hand shower, commode, and medicine cabinet. The bedroom, which had a double bed and a built-in chest-of-drawers, filled the back of the trailer. When he finished his ramblings through the mobile home, there was not a crumb left of the food that James had thoughtfully left for him.  

 

A gentle knock on the door drew his attention. Whoever was knocking didn’t want to wake him if he was still asleep. James stuck his head in the door. “Ah, you’re awake. Good. Come, I want to show you around, and you can meet my people. “

 

Vincent quickly followed James out the door. “You live almost as simply as we do, James. We have very little electricity or heat, but we do have candles and books, many books. “

 

As James showed him their school and health clinic, Vincent noticed that both were short of supplies. He hoped that someday he could remedy that with Catherine’s help.  

 

“We have many children,” Vincent said. “The world can be very cruel to them. We give them love, care, and an education. Some leave but most stay below. They are our greatest treasure. “

 

“Children are very important to us, also. I wish there was more we could do for them. “

 

“You give the greatest gift a child could have: you give them love and a home. “

 

By the time they came to the small combination post office, grocery store, and gas station, they had picked up quite a following. As always, Vincent fascinated the children; adults may fear him, but most children knew instinctively that he would never harm them. The two men sat down on the long, wooden bench that stood in front of the little building. Crowding around, the children begged, “Tell us a story about yourself. Please. “

 

Vincent began his story with Anna finding him. The children listened in rapt silence throughout the entire tale and then bombarded him with question after question.  

 

Finally, James threw up his hands, “Whoa, hold on. Vincent can answer only so many questions. Beside, it’s time for dinner. Run on home now. He will be here for a while. You can talk with him later. “

 

They scampered off with cries of, “See you later. “”Bye. “”Thank you. “”We’re glad you’re here. “

 

Instead of returning to the mobile home, James took Vincent to a ranch style log house situated a good fifteen minute walk from the village. “Welcome to my home, Vincent. “

 

“Thank you. Are you alone, James?”

 

“Yes, my parents were killed in an automobile accident and my girl is away at college,” he said as he ushered Vincent into the bright, neat kitchen.  

 

“I’m sorry about your parents. I’m lucky; I have Father, a most wonderful man, and Mary, who has been like a mother to me. And Catherine. “

 

“My girl, April, should be back soon. I miss her. “

 

“I know how you feel,” Vincent commented.  

 

“We’re having a powwow tonight, dancing and singing. You might like it. Let’s get some dinner. It takes me awhile to get dressed. “James set about to make a simple dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and salad, Vincent helping as needed.  

 

********************

 

Feasting his eyes on the color and variety of the costumes that the dancers wore, Vincent was enjoying himself immensely. The night was cool and clear with a myriad of stars blazing above. Sitting on a little knoll, he was surrounded by children, the fire and the dancers below him in a natural amphitheater. The movements of the male dancers around the large bonfire were intricate and wild, while the women danced quite sedately. The singing was strange to his ears; he had never heard anything quite like it before. From what little he knew, he thought that James was an excellent dancer. The dancing continued for hours until the first faint red streaks of dawn when everyone went home tired and satisfied, but Vincent remained awake, sitting in a lawn chair on James’ front porch. He never tired of watching the sunrise.

 

*********************

 

He spent the next day relaxing and enjoying his newfound friends but was more than ready to leave the next morning. The tribe gave him a large packet of food, consisting of venison jerky and dried fruit, a canteen, and two changes of clothing wrapped in a blanket roll that he could sling over his shoulder with the straps that held it together. James had given him a pair of boots when he had noticed how worn out Vincent’s boots were. He was better prepared to face the long, arduous walk to the east coast than he had been when he started out. After saying goodbye to the children, he thanked everyone for all they had done for him, then climbed into the passenger side of the truck.  

 

As the sun glinted on the tops of the Bitterroot Mountains, James started the truck, and with calls of good luck and friendly waves from the people gathered to see them off, the two men headed east. James had described the route they would be taking, and it lived up to all he had said. The black top ended in a gravel road that wound back and forth as it gained altitude. Nez Perce Pass was in front of them, but James turned south before reaching it and, taking only the empty back roads, finally turned east and drove Vincent through the Teton Pass over the Rocky Mountains to the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming. Anyone in a passing vehicle would have seen only a single occupant in the cab of the truck as the dust clouds kicked up by the approaching vehicle gave Vincent plenty of time to duck out of sight. It was a long and exhausting drive for one person, but James had done it many times before; he had relatives living on the reservation.  

 

Vincent enjoyed watching the scenery flow by and wished that he could go through it at a more leisurely pace. Having James with him was gratifying and informative. He pointed out so many interesting sites and told so many wonderful stories about his people. Vincent related tales about his childhood and of all the trouble Devin would get him into. By the time they reached Wyoming, they felt they had known each other for years, and Vincent was truly sorry to say goodbye.  

 

After a drive of over 600 miles, which would have taken Vincent a month or more but was reduced to a day and a half, they drove onto the reservation. Pulling into the driveway of a rambling one-story house, James grinned at Vincent, “Well, we made it this far with no trouble. Are you sure you don’t mind meeting my aunt?”

 

“If she is your relative, I see no problem. I trust you and you wouldn’t take me where I could get hurt. “Vincent leaned over and squeezed the young man’s rangy shoulder.  

 

“Well, come on. Let’s go in. “James climbed stiffly out of the truck and hobbled up to the steps of the house. “Too many rodeos, Vincent. Should have stuck to car racing. “

 

Smiling and ducking his head, Vincent followed James into a cheerful, sunlight kitchen. “Aunt Belle, you home?” James called out.  

 

“Now who’s that in my kitchen? It couldn’t my no-good nephew who never calls me, could it?” A short rotund ball of energy burst into the kitchen. “Well, bless me if it isn’t. “Vincent quickly turned his back so as not to frighten her. “And who’s that with you?”

 

“Aunt Belle, this is a special friend of mine. We have to keep his presence here a secret. He’s not in any trouble but no one can know about him. “

 

“Well, I don’t know. Most of your friends are nothing but ruffians, but if you vouch for him, I’ll see to it that he is safely kept hidden. Let me see your face, young man. “

 

Vincent slowly turned around. She gasped in surprise, then said, “Count on you, James, to come up with something new. That’s some mask. “

 

“It’s not a mask, aunt. “

 

“It isn’t?” She reached up to touch Vincent’s cheek. “It’s not a mask. Well, I’ll be jiggered. I’ve never seen anyone like you before. “

 

“There are no others like me. Please don’t be frightened,” he implored in his satiny-gravel voice.  

 

“Honey, I’ve faced down wilder animals than you. “Scrutinizing him from head to toe, she finally declared, “You know you’re quite beautiful. “Embarrassed, Vincent dropped his eyes.  ”What’s your name?” she asked.  

 

“Vincent. “

 

The woman couldn’t keep from staring. “I can see why city folk might be afraid of you, but out here we’re used to strange critters. “

 

“Come on, Belle, you’re embarrassing the guy,” the mortified young man said, trying to rescue Vincent from Belle’s friendly but intrusive perusal.  

 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite to stare. “Bustling to her refrigerator, she got them each a glass of sweet sun tea. “You boys hungry? Want something to eat?” She handed each one a large glass of the cold, golden-brown liquid. “Don’t you want to sit down?”

 

“Auntie, after driving for a day and a half, I think I want to stand for a while. What about you, Vincent?”

 

Nodding his head, Vincent leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter and took a sip of his tea. His eyes lit up in pleasure. “This tastes different from what I am used to,” he said, taking a healthy swallow.

 

“It’s sun tea, made in a gallon jar and heated by the sun. It’s not acid that way,” Belle informed him. Without thinking, Vincent smiled at her, comfortable in her accepting presence, and Belle saw four deadly canines glinting in the sunlight. What is he? flashed through her mind. Whatever he was, he was definitely a man and what a man.  

 

“After we get a good rest, I’m going to drive Vincent on to the Nebraska state line. That ought to get you a good piece nearer New York,” the young Indian punched Vincent playfully in the arm.  

 

“New York? How in the world did you get all the way out here?” Belle asked.  

 

“It’s a long story, Belle, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back, but right now we need to get some sleep. Follow me, Vincent, I know where the beds are,” James called over his shoulder as he headed out the kitchen into the interior of the house.  

 

Curbing her curiosity, she urged this very different man to follow, “Go ahead, Vincent. He just takes over my house when he’s here. Seems to think he’s cock-o’-the-roost. Never could get mad at him though, he’s my favorite nephew. “

 

“Would you wake us at sundown, please?” he asked, stepping into a small bedroom. James had already disappeared into the room across the hall.  

 

“Sure. Sleep well,” she said to the closing door.  

 

That evening after a delicious dinner Vincent thanked Belle for the use of her bed, shower, and the food that she had added to his already heavy pack and asked that she not tell anyone that he had been there. With a hearty hug for the sweet-tempered woman, he climbed into the truck.  She stood with her hands on her hips watching them drive into the dark Wyoming night. Hope he makes it, she thought as she turned to enter her house. There were dirty dishes that sat on her counter, waiting to be washed.  

 

Just as they reached Riverton, the truck sputtered to a halt. “Damn,” James hit the steering wheel in frustration. “This is a brand-new truck. It shouldn’t do this. “

 

“Is it something you can’t fix?” Vincent asked.  

 

“I’m the world’s worst mechanic, Vincent. I’ll have to get someone to tow me. “

 

“Is it far to Riverton?”

 

“Nah. I can walk it in half an hour but what about you? I wanted to take you to the state line. Damn, I’m sorry, man. Wish I could take you all the way to New York, but I can’t. “

 

They climbed out of the truck and Vincent took his blanket roll of food and extra clothes from the bed of the truck. “James, no one could have done more for me than you. You have gone the extra mile and more. I cannot ask for more than that. “Quickly he drew the other man into a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, my friend. I hope to see you again someday. “

 

“No thanks are necessary, friend. Maybe I’ll make it to New York someday. Let me know when you get home, ok?”

 

“I will write as soon as I can,” Vincent assured him confidently then turned and disappeared into the moonless night. James waited a few minutes then, shoving his hands into his pockets, he started to trudge toward Riverton. He hoped Vincent would make it safely back home. With all the hazards facing him--least of all, the long distance and most of all, the powerful man that wanted him dead--it would be quite a feat, but he had the feeling that if anyone could, it would be Vincent.  

 

***********************

 

“He’s on the move again, little one,” Catherine whispered to the baby. She was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep after spending all day striving to find something to occupy her mind. She had read, listened to music, knitted, walked in the garden, and still time hung heavy. She understood now that no matter how sumptuous the prison or how loving the guard, it was the loss of freedom that hurt the most. Man was meant to live free and unfettered, and she understood Vincent’s need to walk the city even if it was only at night. He was free then, unconstrained, with no walls surrounding him.  

 

She had begun to imagine him being with her, holding conversations with him, planning their future and that of their child. That was the happiest time of the day. She missed him so much that it was a dull ache that pervaded her soul. But she had faith that he would come for them. “He’ll be here, little one. I know he will and then everything will be all right. “Turning over away from the small, glinty eye of the surveillance camera, she succumbed to sleep, dreaming of Vincent.  

 

************************

 

Joe’s lack of success was getting to him. Time after time Moreno had blocked his efforts. That was proof enough that the man was dirty. Soon Joe was pursuing his own investigation, not telling Moreno anything more than he had to. Even then it was frustrating. How could Cathy disappear with no one knowing anything? Just when he was becoming totally desperate Elliot Burch walked into his office.  

 

Leaning back in his chair, hands laced behind his head, the young Assistant DA had been staring off into space. What to do next, he thought. Suddenly from directly in front of his desk, he heard, “I’ve been trying to reach Cathy. Do you know where she might be?” He came back down to earth to find Elliot Burch, dapper in his designer raincoat, confidently ensconced in the imitation leather couch opposite his desk. The quiet assurance of the man as he waited for him to answer exasperated Joe’s already irritated feelings. This man had a way of getting under his skin that he found truly annoying but he needed him.

 

Releasing a big sigh, he greeted the handsome architect, “I’m glad you’re here, Elliot. I need your help. “Elliot looked at him in surprise. “You have contacts I can’t even begin to imagine,” Joe explained. “Cathy’s been missing for the last three months. “

 

“Missing? What do you mean .  .  .  missing?”

 

“Missing, like in kidnapped. “

 

“My god, Joe, who would kidnap Cathy?”

 

Glancing down at his clasped hands resting on his desktop, Joe made a decision--one he hoped he wouldn’t regret--to tell Elliot everything that he knew. He had to trust someone and right now Elliot was the only one he knew who cared for Cathy as much as he did and had the contacts that he needed. Raising his eyes to Elliot’s concerned ones, he answered, “That’s why I need your help. We have reason to believe she was taken because of a book I had given her. “

 

“What book?” Elliot demanded, leaning forward intently.  

 

“Patrick Hanlon gave me a book of coded business transactions that I had Cathy give to Moreno. “

 

“Not Moreno!” Elliot exploded. “My god, Joe, he’s dirty. I’ve suspected for a long time that he is on someone’s payroll. “

 

Joe threw his hands up in the air. “I didn’t know. I always believed he was as honest as the day is long. I know otherwise now but I have no proof. Anyway, right after that Cathy disappeared and a man named Vincent disappeared with her as well. Somehow, the two of them are connected. His father has been to see me. “He stood up and walked to the rain splashed windows. It was a dreary, wet day, matching his mood, and the rain pounded down in sheets. “She’s been gone for three months, and I haven’t come up with a single clue. I need help, Elliot .  .  .  badly. Will you help me?” He leaned his head, wearily, against the cool window pane.  

 

“I’ll do anything I can to help find Cathy. Where is the book?” Elliot asked. Before Joe could answer, he reached for the phone on Joe’s desk, dialed, and spoke to whoever answered the phone. “Jeannie? Tell Manning to meet me in my office in an hour. I’ve a job for him. Thanks. “He hung up then settled back into the couch. “Now, who has the book? Do you know?”

 

Joe shook his head. “I don’t know. Moreno says Cathy never gave it to him but he’s lying. Cathy told Jacob that she had. “He sat down and swiveled around to face Elliot.

 

“Who’s Jacob?” Elliot asked in exasperation.

 

“A friend of Cathy’s. He’s trying to help. He has some street contacts. “

 

Elliot was forced to accept Joe’s explanation. He could sense that he’d get nothing more from him on the subject of Cathy’s

 friend: so he turned back to the subject of the book. “All right, we need that book. Let’s say Moreno has it. Where would he keep it?”

 

“He has a built-in safe in his desk. It’s probably there. God, I hope it’s not in a safe deposit box. “

 

“We’ll assume that he’d want to keep it close. If I send someone .  .  .  could they get into his office?”

 

“Day or night?”

 

“Night. “

 

“Yeah sure, I could arrange something. “

 

“You realize you would be breaking the law?” Elliot watched the young man nod his head slowly.  

 

“Yeah, I know but I don’t know what else to do. “

 

“Ok, let’s do it as soon as possible. Tomorrow night. I’ll call and give you the time. “Elliot stood up. “The key to finding her is the book. It’ll tell us who is behind her disappearance and Moreno. “

 

“Thanks, Elliot,” Joe expressed as he shook Elliot’s hand and walked with him to the door.  

 

“Let’s hope I can do some good,” Elliot said over his shoulder as he hurried to his meeting with Manning.  

 

Joe returned to his desk, plopped down in the chair, and picked up a file then sat there, just staring at it, not seeing a word.