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“Live and learn.”
    The detective read out loud, “Bridgeport’s East End is mourning the tragic loss tonight of a promising high school sophomore who drowned Saturday in a suspicious pool accident…”
    Then he stopped. It seemed as if Hauck’s and Freddy’s eyes hit on the same thing all at once.
    The victim’s name.
    Suddenly it became clear just what the shooter had been shouting.
    Her name made a lot of things clear.
    It was Josephina. Josephina Ruiz.

CHAPTER TEN
    Y ou have any connection to this case, Lieutenant?” Freddy looked toward Hauck, trying to connect the dots.
    Hauck shook his head. “No.” In a strange way that made him feel relieved.
    They read through the rest of the article, which recounted how the victim, a high school honors student, and a group of her friends had sneaked into the fenced-in community pool at night. They’d been drinking a little, which led to them horsing around in the pool. Apparently, the victim’s bathing suit got entangled on an underwater filter duct that had been left open and she couldn’t tear it free. The rest of the kids scattered, panicked. The body ended up being found by a night security guard. Then one by one, the next day, they started to come forward, identified by the school and local police.
    No charges were ever filed.
    Por Josephina. Hauck was sure now that this was what the shooter had been shouting. That was what this thing was about.
    Revenge. The East End was a tough section of Bridgeport. Lots of local gang turf up there. But why here? In Greenwich. At an Exxon station, in the middle of the day?
    But it didn’t have to do with him, Hauck realized now, re-calling the window rolling down and the barrel pointed in his eyes.
    Nor did it connect to David Sanger. That now seemed clear. Simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. The poor guy had no idea what was behind the attack that killed him.
    But one person might.
    Hauck folded the paper by the edges and dropped it in a plastic evidence bag. “Let’s find out from Sunil if he does.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    G reenwich Hospital was on the way back to the station. Hauck gave his name to the attendant at the ER desk and she took him down the hall to a small, curtained-off room where Jessie was being treated.
    â€œShe’s doing fine,” the attendant said to him. “Just a bit unnerved. We gave her a little Valium through her IV to take the edge off, so she’s resting. Your wife’s there with her now.”
    â€œThanks,” Hauck said, choosing not to correct her, following her through the ward.
    â€œHey…!” He brightened as he drew open the curtain to the room.
    Jess was on a gurney in a light blue hospital gown. Beth was sitting next to her, gently stroking his daughter’s hair.
    â€œHey, Daddy.” Jessie perked up a bit, blinking, and lifted her hand.
    â€œBeth, thanks,” Hauck said to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He bent down and gave his daughter a kiss and squeezed her hand, taking care not to jostle the IV. “How’re you feeling, honey?”
    â€œShe’s doing okay,” Beth said. “Just a little woozy. They gaveher something. They’re just waiting an hour or so before releasing her.”
    Jessie tried to push herself up on her elbows. “How are you doing, Dad?”
    â€œJust a flesh wound.” He grinned, recalling the skit from Monty Python’s Spamalot, which they had seen last Christmas.
    â€œAre you okay, Ty?” Beth asked. She was in a rust-colored velour outfit; her brown hair was back in a short ponytail. Hauck saw the concern in her eyes.
    Hauck nodded and put his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “That’s about how much, Beth,” he said, indicating how close they both had come. He and Beth had already lost one child together. Blame was something that had knifed back and forth between them for a long while.
    It had