Page 60 of Thin Ice

"Maybe he didn't answer the door." More typing.

"He asked me if Ray suffered," I said. "He'd read the obituary, and he wanted to know if the peaceful part was true. Tierney was going to give us everything, Michael. Names, dates, and the protocol details. He was the only living human who could corroborate the medical side, and he said he would talk until he was done or until he heard something he didn't like. The only thing he asked was that we wait for the hockey spotlight to dim."

"I know."

"I was waiting."

"Elias, I know where you're going. You think it was the landline. Yes, that first call lives in the carrier's billing records. In theory, someone could have pulled it but not this fast. Nobody converts a phone log into a dead man in a few days through a subpoena. That call was not how someone found him." The typing stopped. "All we have is the obvious question. Mac's going to ask both of us."

"What's the question?"

"Who knew about Tierney," Michael said, "and when did they find out."

He hung up.

Doyle's man texted me.

Rollins: subject in Forest Park, bench above the Grand Basin, alone, no approach

I stuck the phone in my pocket. Nolan was safe. That was the key point of the text.

Who knew the name existed, and when. I wrote it in my notebook and began the list.

Michael. He knew first. Michael being the leak was absurd on the surface. If it were true, he had access to the entire investigation. I cleared him.

Mac. He knew because all of Michael's reports went to him. Mac built the firm with his partner, Eamon, out of the wreckage of being a target himself. Writing his name on the list at all felt like a small crime. He was clear.

Kate Halloran. I never told her. She was clear.

Doyle. He was a crucial element in the security cover. Keeping him out of the Tierney loop kept him away from information he didn't need. Clear.

The league's counsel channel. They had Halloran and Tarn, but as far as I knew, Tierney hadn't made it there yet. They were off the list.

Nolan. I'd told him a living witness existed, but that was just hours ago. It was after Tierney's death, according to the timeline Michael gave me. I drew a line through his name and winced.

I stopped writing. All clear, but I knew there was a seventh item.

Can you spell it? I heard him ask the question in my head. I'd spelled the name for him letter by letter.

Chapter sixteen

Nolan

The fog was gone by the time I walked back from the park, and the heat had come up behind it. I let myself in through the service entrance and rode up alone. The new brass key stuck a little in the new lock, the way new keys do until you've worn them in.

Elias was standing at the island when I returned. He'd already packed his bag and set it by the door. Mine was packed, too, but I hadn't taken it out of the bedroom before I took my walk.

"There's something you need to hear before we fly," he said.

"Okay."

"The witness. The technician from Carolina I told you about. His name was Russ Tierney." I heard tension in his voice. "He's dead. A cousin found him yesterday afternoon in his chair with the TV on. The county's calling it an accidental overdose. He'd been on pain pills for a decade from three different doctors across two states. Nobody's going to do a quick autopsy. Nobody's going to investigate. From the outside, it looks like there are no questions to ask.

"Yesterday afternoon?" I asked.

"Yes."

I did the math. I might have been taking a nap while it happened, or it was later, and we were warming up on the ice. Regardless of the specific time, the man was already dead when I took cross-checks in front of the crease. He was dead the whole time I stood in the lamplight holding a page listing me as a subject, thinking that was the worst thing that could happen.