to be engaged in fighting crime, solving crime; he wanted to use his mind far more than a firearm.
With the honors bestowed upon him, Jack was given accelerated entry into homicide, the division where he thought he could do the most good, applying his deductive reasoning to capturing those who committed the most heinous acts.
With an affection for puzzles since his teens, he was a natural as a detective. His aptitude helped him get assigned to a six-month apprenticeship under Detective Frank Archer. The department believed that the veteran would impart his wisdom and skills to someone with youthful energy, drive, and passion for police work.
Frank at first thought Keeler was some rich kid playing cops and robbers, a showboater who would be the front-page poster childof the “new” kind of cop. The fact of the matter was that Jack was not rich in the sense of privilege, having been raised in the upper-middle-class world afforded by his father’s income. Jack had all but rejected his father’s monetary assistance and connections upon graduating from college. He was neither arrogant nor vain, and his passion turned out to be entirely genuine.
Although Frank was fifteen years Jack’s senior, they became fast friends, working together on multiple cases over the six-month period. Jack absorbed his new friend’s knowledge, while Frank found Jack’s drive and commitment refreshing in a world where work ethics were as ephemeral as a cool summer breeze.
Frank’s world was the antithesis of the life Jack had started out in. He was street-tough and spoke his mind without thought; his bulldog body and attitude were the outward manifestation of his heart. Frank had spent ten years in homicide and had yet to become jaded. Bronx-born and -raised, at the age of eighteen, he joined the Army in search of adventure but ended up spending the majority of his ten years of service as a sergeant stateside, barring a single tour in Germany.
His wife, Lisa, never complained as they crisscrossed the country from base to base for six-month stints, but she exacted a promise from Frank that once he was out of the Army, he would figure out a way to buy her a small house with a garden, where they could settle down and have kids.
Frank fit right in at the NYPD, which was happy to embrace a military man. He worked his way through narcotics, robbery, and special units, finally settling into homicide. Lisa had feared for his life far more than she ever had when he was in the army.
She had hoped to overcome that by focusing on family and children. But despite all the years of trying, despite all of the doctors’ promises and bills, a child was not in their future. They dealt with their heartbreak as they did with so many of the problems they had faced in life: distraction. Lisa became a teacher, indirectly sating hermaternal instinct by helping to form the lives of other people’s children, taking pleasure in her third-grade class and the students’ magical, inquisitive minds.
Frank found an even greater focus at work, rising to the top of his game, with multiple accommodations and countless convictions. He and Lisa purchased a small Cape Cod–style house in Byram Hills and had finally found a peaceful balance to life.
CHAPTER 10
F RIDAY , 8:15 A.M .
J ACK ROLLED UP HIS sleeve and stared at the intricate tattoo on his left forearm. It was truly like nothing he had ever seen before, not in print, not on canvas, and certainly not on skin. He looked at it closely, examining the dark ink, the tightly woven pattern, the odd lettering from a language he couldn’t fathom. He wracked his brain but could find no recollection of getting it. It certainly wasn’t something he would have chosen. The one on his hip was one thing, a drunken mistake. This was different, and while his memory of the last two days seemed to have slipped away, he knew that this mosaic on his flesh was somehow connected to Mia’s disappearance.
“Like my body art?” Jack
With the honors bestowed upon him, Jack was given accelerated entry into homicide, the division where he thought he could do the most good, applying his deductive reasoning to capturing those who committed the most heinous acts.
With an affection for puzzles since his teens, he was a natural as a detective. His aptitude helped him get assigned to a six-month apprenticeship under Detective Frank Archer. The department believed that the veteran would impart his wisdom and skills to someone with youthful energy, drive, and passion for police work.
Frank at first thought Keeler was some rich kid playing cops and robbers, a showboater who would be the front-page poster childof the “new” kind of cop. The fact of the matter was that Jack was not rich in the sense of privilege, having been raised in the upper-middle-class world afforded by his father’s income. Jack had all but rejected his father’s monetary assistance and connections upon graduating from college. He was neither arrogant nor vain, and his passion turned out to be entirely genuine.
Although Frank was fifteen years Jack’s senior, they became fast friends, working together on multiple cases over the six-month period. Jack absorbed his new friend’s knowledge, while Frank found Jack’s drive and commitment refreshing in a world where work ethics were as ephemeral as a cool summer breeze.
Frank’s world was the antithesis of the life Jack had started out in. He was street-tough and spoke his mind without thought; his bulldog body and attitude were the outward manifestation of his heart. Frank had spent ten years in homicide and had yet to become jaded. Bronx-born and -raised, at the age of eighteen, he joined the Army in search of adventure but ended up spending the majority of his ten years of service as a sergeant stateside, barring a single tour in Germany.
His wife, Lisa, never complained as they crisscrossed the country from base to base for six-month stints, but she exacted a promise from Frank that once he was out of the Army, he would figure out a way to buy her a small house with a garden, where they could settle down and have kids.
Frank fit right in at the NYPD, which was happy to embrace a military man. He worked his way through narcotics, robbery, and special units, finally settling into homicide. Lisa had feared for his life far more than she ever had when he was in the army.
She had hoped to overcome that by focusing on family and children. But despite all the years of trying, despite all of the doctors’ promises and bills, a child was not in their future. They dealt with their heartbreak as they did with so many of the problems they had faced in life: distraction. Lisa became a teacher, indirectly sating hermaternal instinct by helping to form the lives of other people’s children, taking pleasure in her third-grade class and the students’ magical, inquisitive minds.
Frank found an even greater focus at work, rising to the top of his game, with multiple accommodations and countless convictions. He and Lisa purchased a small Cape Cod–style house in Byram Hills and had finally found a peaceful balance to life.
CHAPTER 10
F RIDAY , 8:15 A.M .
J ACK ROLLED UP HIS sleeve and stared at the intricate tattoo on his left forearm. It was truly like nothing he had ever seen before, not in print, not on canvas, and certainly not on skin. He looked at it closely, examining the dark ink, the tightly woven pattern, the odd lettering from a language he couldn’t fathom. He wracked his brain but could find no recollection of getting it. It certainly wasn’t something he would have chosen. The one on his hip was one thing, a drunken mistake. This was different, and while his memory of the last two days seemed to have slipped away, he knew that this mosaic on his flesh was somehow connected to Mia’s disappearance.
“Like my body art?” Jack
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