Page 75 of Thin Ice

I sat in the safe house's gray kitchen with the light coming up behind the blinds and listened to Nolan work on the floor in the living room. The knees-to-chest was still there, one leg at a time, slowly. I still heard the exhale every thirty seconds.

What was gone were the little grunts that often came when he leaned his weight into the lacrosse ball under the glute. Leaning into anything now would mean straining the eighth rib, and it couldn't handle that.

Mac called at seven, on speaker, and his voice filled the kitchen while Nolan took his shower.

"No wire," he said. It wasn't a question. "Reisner reads rooms for a living. He'll find a recorder in minutes. Even if he didn't, counsel can't hang a case on a tape they would call coerced. Mercer walks in clean."

"Only him. Nothing more."

"Yes. He's not there to extract a confession, and he won't get one. Reis is careful, and he's not planning on going to jail. What Mercer is there for is to create a crack between Reisner, the believer, and whoever he has hired to do the unpleasant jobs he avoids."

"Understood."

"One more thing, and then go be a bodyguard." I heard paper shuffling. "As of this morning, you're formally off Mercer. It's in the file. Eamon's seen it. You're staying on him through today because pulling you would raise his risk instead of lowering it. The policy lets me make that call as long as I document it. You're the reason the clause is there, Elias."

"How's the head?" Mac asked.

"Focused on the job."

"That's good enough for today."

Nolan stopped in the kitchen doorway, dressed. It wasn't his pre-game suit. He wore jeans and a crisp cream-colored button-down shirt he could get into without lifting the bad arm past his shoulder. The strips over his temple disappeared under his hair, exactly as the doctor promised.

I grabbed my keys.

"Ready?" I asked.

"No, but let's go anyway."

The clinic looked as forgettable as the first time I laid eyes on it. There was a street number and nothing else out front. I parked the SUV against the curb under the shade of a linden tree and walked Nolan to the door.

It was only eight, but the heat and humidity were already oppressive.

"The private entrance is around the side," I said. "Frey will meet us there."

Nolan silently followed me. Frey was already at the door, and he opened before we reached it. He had his sleeves pushed up and wore jeans over running shoes. He had his Tarn lanyard around his neck and smiled warmly. It was the same presentation I'd mistaken for a professional friendship.

I thought about Mac's order. Change nothing toward Frey. Don't vary your tone or your response time. I reached out to shake hands, and it was brief and firm, like the first time.

"Elias." He shook hands with Nolan. "And you must be Mr. Mercer. It's an honor. I mean that." He'd practiced a performance of sincerity. "Reis is thrilled. He's been telling stories since I called him. Come in, come in. It's beastly out there."

Frey held the door. The building's air conditioning presented a wall of cool air with a hint of eucalyptus.

Reis came out to meet us himself. It telegraphed his confidence. A careful man sends an assistant. He had his jacket unbuttoned and his hand already extended.

"Nolan Mercer." He took Nolan's hand in both of his and held it. "Look at you. You've got the same handshake you had at twenty-one. I'd have known it in the dark." He grinned. "You were always one of the good ones. I told Colin to tell you that, and now I get to say it to your face."

Nolan was quiet, but he shook hands. Reis turned toward me.

"And the kick-mechanics guy." He placed a hand on my shoulder as if he'd known me for years. "Colin said you were minding a hockey player. I didn't put together that it was this one." I'd braced to argue my way into the room, making a case for a bodyguard in the corner. I didn't have to say a word. "You'll sit in, of course," Reis said. " That's a professional necessity in your line of work."

Kick mechanics. He used it to open the door with me at the symposium—famous man of science knows my work. Now I heard it for what it was: a man flattering me to hide the trail of bodies his company was piling up.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll be quiet and stay out of the way."

"My office is comfortable, but the consultation room's quieter." Reis herded us down a hallway. "Colin, we're fine from here. Nolan, come sit down and tell me about that hip. Don't lie to me. I always know."

He led us into a room with two chairs at a low table. I took my place in the corner where I could easily see both men and the door.