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〃Do you know a man named Jack Stephano？〃 Cutter asked。
They both nodded with some reluctance。
〃Are you part of his little consortium？〃
They both shook their heads in the negative。
〃You're lucky。 Stephano found him； tortured him； damned near killed him； then gave him to us。〃
〃I like the part about the torture；〃 Vitrano said。 〃Tell us about that。〃
〃Skip it。 We picked him up last night in Paraguay； flew him to Puerto Rico。 He's in the hospital there。 He'll be released and sent here in a few days。〃
〃What about the money？〃 Bogan managed to ask； his voice scratchy and dry。
〃No sign of it。 But then； we don't know what Stephano knows。〃
Vitrano stared at the table； his eyes dancing。 Patrick had stolen ninety million dollars when he disappeared four years earlier。 It would be impossible to spend all of it。 He could have bought mansions and helicopters and lots of women and still have tens of millions left。 Surely they could find it。 The firm's fee was a third。
Maybe； just maybe。
Bogan worked on his moist eyes and thought of his ex…wife； a congenial woman who'd turned vicious when the sky fell。 She had felt disgraced after the bankruptcy； and so she took their youngest child and moved to Pensacola where she filed for divorce and made ugly accusations。 Bogan was drinking and using coke。 She knew it and beat him over the head with it。 He couldn't offer much resistance。 He eventually cleaned himself up； but was still denied access to the child。
Oddly enough； he still loved his ex…wife； still dreamed of getting her back。 Maybe the money would get her attention。 Maybe there was hope。 Surely they could find it。
Cutter broke the silence。 〃Stephano's in all sorts of trouble。 There were burns all over Patrick's body where they tortured him。〃
〃Good；〃 Vitrano said with a smile。
〃You expect sympathy from us？〃 Bogan asked。
〃Anyway； Stephano is a side issue。 We'll watch him； maybe he'll lead us to the money。〃
〃The money will be easy to find；〃 Vitrano said。 〃There was a dead body。 Somebody got killed by our boy Patrick。 It's a death penalty case； open and shut。 Murder for the sake of money。 Patrick will sing when the pressure is applied。〃
〃Better yet； give him to us；〃 Bogan said； without a smile。 〃Ten minutes； and we'll know everything。〃
Cutter glanced at his watch。 〃I gotta go。 I have to go to Point Clear and break the news to Trudy。〃
Bogan and Vitrano snorted in perfect unison； then laughed。 〃Oh； she doesn't know？〃 Bogan said。
〃Not yet。〃
〃Please video it；〃 Vitrano said； still laughing quietly。 〃I'd love to see her face。〃
〃I'm actually looking forward to it；〃 Cutter said。
〃The bitch；〃 Bogan said。
Cutter stood and said； 〃Tell the other partners； but sit on it until noon。 We've scheduled a press conference then。 I'll be in touch。〃
They didn't say a word for a long time after he left。 There were so many questions； so much to say。 The room spun with possibilities and scenarios。
THE VICTIM of a fiery one…car collision； on a rural road with no witnesses； Patrick was laid to rest by his lovely wife Trudy on February 11； 1992。 She was a striking widow； dressed in black Armani； and as they shoveled dirt onto his casket she was already spending the money。
His will left everything to her。 It was simple and had been recently updated。 Hours before the funeral mass； Trudy and Doug Vitrano had carefully opened the lockbox in Patrick's office and inventoried the contents。 They found the will； two car titles； the deed to the Lanigan home； a life insurance policy in the amount of half a million dollars that Trudy knew about； and another policy for two million that she'd never heard of。
Vitrano had quickly scanned the unexpected policy。 It had been purchased by Patrick eight months earlier。 Trudy was the sole beneficiary。 The same pany had sold both policies； and it was huge and solvent。
She swore she knew nothing about it； and the smile on her face convinced Vitrano she was genuinely shocked。 Funeral or no funeral； Trudy was quite thrilled about her good fortune。 With her pain eased considerably； she somehow managed to suffer through the funeral service and burial without a serious breakdown。
The life insurance pany balked； as they all do initially； but Vitrano made sufficient threats to force payment。 Four weeks after the burial； Trudy got her two and a half million。
A week later； she was driving a red Rolls…Royce around Biloxi； and people began to hate her。 Then the ninety million vanished in thin air； and the rumors got started。
Perhaps she wasn't a widow。
Patrick was the first suspect； and eventually the only one。 The gossip grew vicious； so Trudy loaded her small daughter and her boyfriend； Lance； a holdover from high school； into the red Rolls and fled to Mobile； an hour east of Biloxi。 She found a slick lawyer who gave her lots of advice on how to protect the money。 She bought a beautiful old home in Point Clear； overlooking Mobile Bay； and put it in Lance's name。
Lance was a strong； handsome loser she'd first slept with at the age of fourteen。 He'd been convicted of smuggling pot at nineteen； and spent three years in prison while she was having a wonderful time at college； playing cheerleader and seducing football players； a legendary party girl who also managed to graduate with honors。 She married a wealthy fraternity boy； and divorced him after two years。 Then she enjoyed the single life for a few years until； she met and married Patrick； a promising young lawyer who was new to the Coast。 Their courtship had been long on passion and short on planning。
Through college； both marriages； and various short careers； Trudy had always kept Lance nearby。 He was an addiction； a strapping； lusty boy she could never get enough of。 She knew when she was fourteen that she would never be without Lance。
LANCE OPENED THE DOOR； bare…chested； black hair pulled back tightly into the obligatory ponytail； a large diamond earring in the left lobe。 He sneered at Cutter as he sneered at the world； and didn't say a word。
〃Is Trudy in？〃 Cutter asked。
〃Maybe。〃
The badge flashed； and for a second the sneer vanished。 〃Agent Cutter； FBI。 I've talked to her before。〃
Lance imported marijuana from Mexico with a large； fast boat Trudy had purchased for him。 He sold the pot to a gang in Mobile。 Business was slow because the DEA was asking questions。
〃She's in the gym；〃 Lance said； nodding past Cutter。 〃What do you want？〃
Cutter ignored him and walked across the drive to a converted garage where the music was booming。 Lance followed。
Trudy was in the midst of a high…level aerobics challenge being dictated to her by a supermodel on a large…screen TV at one end of the room。 She bounced and gyrated and mouthed the words to a nameless song； and looked damned good doing it。 Tight yellow spandex。 Tight blond ponytail。 Not an ounce of fat anywhere。 Cutter could've watched for hours。 Even her sweat was cute。
She did this two hours a day。 At thirty…five； Trudy still looked like everybody's high school sweetheart。
Lance hit a switch and the video stopped。 She twirled； saw Cutter； and gave him a look that would melt cheese。 〃Do you mind？〃 she snapped at Lance。 Evidently； t