Dix said. "I told Anna you'd wake up and come here, fire steaming out of your ears, ready to crawl up our b.u.t.ts for leaving you."

Now, there was a visual. Griffin grinned at him. "Have you got the cuffs on Salazar?"

"Well, not yet. Come on in, you'll see for yourself. Can you make these three steps?"

When he finally negotiated the three steep steps, he had to stop a moment, knowing Dix was looking at him and wondering if he should say anything or keep quiet. Dix kept quiet.

Griffin stepped into the hallway of Rafael Salazar's house for the first time since Sat.u.r.day morning, when he'd come to see a bunch of women cleaning up from the party Friday night. Only three days ago.

"Come in here, Griffin," Dix said.

Griffin made his way into the large living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

The room was trashed. Sofas, chairs, and coffee tables were ripped apart and hurled by angry hands to the floor, paintings ripped from the walls and slashed with a sharp knife. Devastation and destruction. Griffin said, "Don't tell me you guys did this?"

Dix gave him a ghost of a smile. "Nah. You should see his music room, all those beautiful antique guitars, the Steinway, all the music and books, smashed, ripped up."

"Where's Salazar?"

"No sign of him."

Griffin hadn't once thought Salazar wouldn't be here. "He ran?"

"It's difficult to tell, since his bedroom is as trashed as the rest of the house. His closet, too. Even the suitcases were torn open."

Ruth and Anna walked into the room. Ruth said, "Hi, Griffin. Can't say I'm surprised to see you. You got any ideas what the people who did this were looking for?"

Anna was speaking to two of Dix's deputies behind her. She turned to him and couldn't help the big smile from blooming. He looked to be fine, maybe a little stiff, maybe a little pain, but she knew he'd manage. "His car's still in the garage, tires and spare slashed, seats ripped open, and glove box yanked out."

Griffin looked at each of them. "What do you guys think?"

Anna said, "I called Mrs. Carlene, Salazar's secretary. She told me he's late for a cla.s.s and his cell phone isn't working. I'm thinking it's a falling-out of thieves and whoever did this believed Salazar was holding back something, so they took him and went to work to find whatever it was he wouldn't hand over."

Dix said, "Maybe some of Salazar's clients, some gang members, turned on him for some reason? Or is there a partner we don't know about who thought Salazar was double-crossing him?" He dashed his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "He could be anywhere by now."

Anna said, "Or maybe he's dead."

Dix picked up the twisted remnants of a flute. "We'll know soon enough. I gotta say, I didn't expect this when we drove up."

"I expected Salazar to meet us at the front door, smoking one of those nasty cigarillos of his, all supercilious ennui, and wave us in," Anna said.

Griffin turned to her as she was speaking, but she was staring down at her scuffed boots, the same ones he'd seen her wearing last night when she'd applied pressure to his leg while he'd tried not to groan. He said, "Suppose it wasn't a coincidence Salazar disappeared the same night we were attacked, Anna? It was a spectacular distraction. Made it easy for him."

"If that's so," Ruth said, "everything we're seeing here could be a ruse, too, to cover his flight. He didn't give us the chance to serve him, or to question him."

Anna was shaking her head. "I saw his music room, the destruction of his beautiful guitars. He wouldn't do that. No, someone else did this."

Dix said, "Either way, Salazar is finished here. I doubt even his adoring students are going to clean this up for him."

Griffin said, "Has anyone spoken to Dr. Hayman?"

Dix said, "After we searched I phoned him, asked him if he'd seen his brother. He said he hadn't and that he was worried, since they were to have had coffee together this morning, and demanded to know what was going on. I told him only that his brother wasn't here and his house was trashed. He was understandably very upset, but he said he couldn't imagine who would do this. I told him we would find his brother and left it at that." Dix paused a moment, then added, "I'm as sure as I can be that he knows nothing about any of this or his twin's criminal activities."

Griffin was shaking his head. "Two brothers, admittedly not raised together, but how could one not know what the other is?"

The Hoover Building

Washington, D.C.

Late Tuesday morning

Savich made it back from the Harts' to the Hoover Building in forty minutes. Traffic hadn't slowed yet, though snow started to fall like a thin white veil as he drove. The forecasters had threatened more in a couple of hours, and he was glad to beat the worst of it. Ollie met him when he stepped into the CAU.

"Did you question Mr. Sleeson?"

Ollie nodded. "A retired gent with a beard down to his navel, really p.i.s.sed, since he'd reported his precious SUV stolen on Sunday evening and hadn't heard a word until I called him.

"Unfortunately, he wasn't any help, didn't see who took it, didn't hear a thing. You should know Delsey's hopping mad, says she's being kept prisoner in your house and it's not fair. She'd have come with me to Maryland to talk with Mr. Sleeson if I'd let her. But not to worry. Coop had her under control when I left. Oh, yes, she tried to call her brother to complain, but couldn't reach him. She might call you, but I think Coop will talk her out of it, get her going with his jokes."

"Thanks, Ollie. What else we got?"

"Melissa Ivy has arrived. She's in the interview room with Mr. Maitland."

"Good. I'm glad he was available. If he asks, tell him I'm in my office. I've got something important to take care of."

Savich went into his office and studied MAX's screen. He smiled and called Dix.

Dix answered on the third ring.

"n.o.ble here."

"Dix, Savich. I think we're in business. Here's what MAX found. There's a thousand-acre parcel of hilly, undeveloped, essentially worthless land outside of Maestro. It was sold by a Mr. Weaver last summer for more than it was worth to a land trust. Not unusual so far, but MAX found the trust had no other domestic holdings, and was owned by an SFB Industries, which appears to be a front company owned by yet another corporation, American Colonial Trust, incorporated in the Cayman Islands. Things get murky here, but MAX found a welter of front companies owned by AZT. One of them is yet another finance company that's under investigation for ties to the Lozano crime family, Salazar's family."

Savich could practically see Dix's manic grin. "Bingo, Savich. If it was Weaver's, I know the parcel and so do you. There's a limestone cave on it. Remember Winkel's Cave and our hairy adventures?"

Not pleasant memories, Savich thought. "Winkel's Cave-there's both a front and a back entrance on Lone Tree Hill. And the cave's big, certainly big enough to house drugs and gang members."

Dix said, "We knew they had to go somewhere, but this is the perfect hideout. There's nothing out that way, only an unused road in ruins and rough terrain. This is it, Savich, this has got to be it. I want you to buy MAX a beer."

Savich paused. "You guys be careful, Dix. These MS-13 gang members, they're dangerous."

"I know," Dix said. "Yes, I know. We will."