Blowout

clues. The guy’s a pro.
    “As for the rest of it, the local investigation—we haven’t turned up a fingerprint, a footprint, usable DNA, not even a vague description by a witness. The garrote leaves no trace, one of its advantages.
    “We’ve followed up on all the phone records, checked every deleted file on computers that could be connected to the Justice, but nothing has fallen out of that.
    “Some of what we’re looking at—further background checks on everyone who could be involved, review of both victims’ financial records, interviews with felons Justice Califano convicted and white-collar criminals he bankrupted, going back many years—these will take more time, but as you know, they’re a bit of a stab in the dark. So far, all we really have is the connection MAX gave us to Günter, and the fact that whatever it was that triggered Justice Califano’s murder, Danny O’Malley was somehow able to find out about it.
    “Our interviews have been useful, but nothing seems to tie into anything substantial yet. All the inconsistencies, even the downright lies don’t seem to matter. And Danny—the only person I can believe about Danny is Annie Harper, and that’s because Dr. Hicks hypnotized her and I questioned her myself.”
    Jimmy Maitland said, “Danny O’Malley sounded like an opportunistic little prick.”
    “Yes, unfortunately he was. And deep down, Annie knew it, but she was too young and too in love to admit it. She does now.”
    “You sound like her father, Savich.”
    “I felt ancient when I was speaking to her.”
    “Nothing on the briefcase, the black book, or the cell phone.” A statement, not a question.
    Savich shook his head.
    Jimmy Maitland said suddenly, “When was the last time you were at the gym?”
    Savich’s head whipped up. “Two, three days. Why?”
    “That’s your problem. You need to sweat this out of your system, have one of the guys bust your butt a little, let this slide off you for a while. Go, Savich, go work out, you need it.”
    Savich slowly rose. “Maybe you’re right, sir.” He grinned. “Then I can get Sherlock to rub me down with BenGay.”
    “Hey, that woman Valerie Rapper still at the gym? The one who came on to you?”
    Savich was clearly startled. “How did you know about her?”
    Jimmy Maitland, father of four sons, all of them built like bulls—like their father—and all firmly in the control of his wife, whom he could tuck under his armpit, said, “I know everything, and it’s best you never forget that, boyo.”
    Savich was actually smiling when he left the Hoover Building to head to the gym. And when he walked through the front door of his house, so beat he could barely walk upright, Sherlock shoved him into the shower, then fed him a big plate of spinach lasagna. He fell asleep lying on his belly in the middle of the bed, Sean beside him, pressing his teddy bear’s nose in the BenGay as he followed the path of his mother’s massage.
    B ECKHURST L ANE W ASHINGTON , D.C. T HURSDAY EVENING
    B EN AND C ALLIE followed Margaret Califano into her house. Her friends were waiting inside the front door—Janette, Anna, Juliette, and Bitsy. Their families had evidently gone home.
    Ben said, eyebrow up, “Are they going to move in?”
    Callie said, “I’ll assume that was an attempt at a joke. I guess they’ll be here for her as long as they believe she needs them.” Callie watched the women surround her mother as the group walked back into the living room. At least her mother was home again. Callie paused a moment more, watching them from the living room doorway. “They’ve always been around. For each other, and for all the kids. I grew up with these women. Each of them taught me something special—”
    “Like what?” Ben asked.
    Callie looked toward Janette Weaverton, who was laying the fire in the fireplace. “Janette taught me how to knit. Anna taught me how to play the piano. Juliette taught me tennis, and Bitsy, well, she taught me how to make the best pizza crust in the world. And that gives me a great idea.”
    She headed into the living room, Ben on her heels. She smiled as she clapped her hands. “Hey, everyone, I’m calling in for pizza. It’s on me. Mom’s home again, you’re all here, we got through the day and the media. We’ve got champagne to celebrate Stewart’s life and being here together, and we’ve got beer for our guy here. What does everyone think?”
    For a moment, there was silence. Then