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The mayor continued. “I’m in a catch-22. I can’t authorize excessive city funds for a public employee to find my daughter. And I can’t use my own money to pay a public employee. I want to find my daughter, but I’ve also sworn to uphold laws and stick to a code of ethics. You guys at the PD and the people at the fire department may hate my policies about pay raises, but I made them in the best interest of the city. And now I can’t send you to find my daughter because it’s not in the best interest of the city. In fact, it goes against every position I ran on. Favoritism, funneling resources to the wealthy areas, and corruption within the city government itself.”
As he talked, his voice got stronger and he almost sounded like he was on the stump. But I understood what he was saying. I was even a little surprised by what he was saying. He was trying to do the right thing, no matter how hard it was. I had to respect that. I also had to tell him what I intended to do.
I said, “Mr. Mayor, I’m going to go look for Natalie on my own. No one needs to know. Not the media, not your constituents, not even your aides.”
Now the mayor stared at me. His mouth dropped open in surprise. All he could manage to say was “Why?”
“Because I’m a father, and I have daughters.”
CHAPTER 52
I BRACED FOR a brisk discussion, or what some people might call an argument, when I finally got Mary Catherine alone that night. I explained everything that had happened and finished with “That’s why I feel like I have to go to Estonia. That girl may be in real trouble, and no one’s going to do anything about it.”
I almost felt like closing my eyes and shying away as I waited for a torrent of Irish anger. Sometimes she used insults I had to look up or ask my grandfather to translate to judge how angry she was.
Mary Catherine was constantly concerned about me at work. She understood my sense of duty and the fact that I loved my job, and she maintained that she fell in love with me after I was already a cop. She understood it was part of me. That didn’t mean she kept quiet about her concerns.
This time she surprised me. As we stood on our balcony, listening to the gentle sounds of the city, she leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. Then she slid in close and locked arms with me. She didn’t say a word.
After a full minute, I had to ask. “Do you have a problem with me traveling to Estonia?”
“Will I miss you? Yes. Will I worry about you? Yes. Do I understand why you feel you have to go? Once again, I’d have to say yes. Michael, you’re nothing if not predictable when it comes to doing the right thing.”
I gave Mary Catherine a sideways glance. “You’re being remarkably reasonable about this. Am I walking into a trap?”
“I know how precious your daughters are to you. I just worry for your safety. You can’t fix everyone’s problems.”
“No, but I might be able to fix this one.”
“Can you count on anyone for help over there? The FBI? Anyone?”
This could’ve been an opportunity to ease her fears and tell her there was nothing to worry about. But that flew in the face of my policy of being open and honest with the woman I intended to spend the rest of my life with. “No, I’ll just be a tourist.”
Mary Catherine said, “A tourist who might have to tangle with a gang.”
“A gang of computer geeks.” Okay, so I was misleading her a little bit.
My grandfather wandered out onto the balcony to join us. I had filled him in earlier on what I planned to do.
Seamus said, “I’ve made a few calls. You’ll have some help from the clergy if you should need it.”
“Great, I could use some tough, elderly backup. Maybe they can help me put these boys on the right track and convince them to forget about crime.”
Seamus didn’t even bother with his usual scowl.
Mary Catherine said, “I didn’t realize the Roman Catholic community was so big in Estonia.”
Seamus said, “It’s growing all the time. But in this case, I spoke to one of my friends in the Orthodox Church. He understands your situation and is prepared to help. Marty Zlatic is the rector of St. Laszlo’s in Tallinn.” He handed me a sheet of paper with a confusing phone number.
I stared at my grandfather and said, “You never fail to surprise me. I thought you only conned other Catholic priests.”
The old man smiled. “I have friends across all denominations. You need only ask and I can find someone to help. We all talk.”
That seemed to satisfy some of Mary Catherine’s concerns. At least for the moment.
CHAPTER 53
AS WE STOOD near the TSA line in JFK, I wondered what the European tourists arriving thought of my horde of kids, fiancée, and grandfather all huddled around me. They probably viewed the scene and thought I must be on my way to a combat zone.
