CHAPTER 1

Earlier that summer

In Manhattan, Mace Carlisle stepped out ofthe door of the Dakota, where he lived, andlooked at the new day. A perfect early summerday, the temperature just right, he thought. Perhapsnot at six o'clock in the morning but certainlyby nine o'clock, just three short hoursaway, the day would be bright and sunny, withmarshmallow clouds moving lazily across thesky. The trees in Central Park would whisperand do their dance for all the tourists, dog walkers,and joggers trying to take advantage of thegolden day.

Mace stood a few minutes more to savor theearly morning air before he walked to the curband hailed a taxi. He could have driven, buttoday was a secretive kind of day, a day when hedidn't want to be followed or watched. A MaceCarlisle day.

He was headed to the office of his lawyer,Oliver Goldfeld. Oliver was the only other personhe knew who arrived at his office by sixthirty, just the way he, Mace, did. For over twentyyears, the two men had convened for coffee andDanish at Oliver's office two days a week to discussMace's affairs. It was something Mace lookedforward to, because he always seemed to have agood day after meeting with Oliver.

Oliver and Mace weren't just lawyer andclient. They were friends in the true sense of theword. While Mace wasn't Oliver's only client, hewas his biggest and richest client. In fact, mostof Oliver's clients had signed on with Oliver becauseof Mace's endorsement of the lawyer.Goldfeld and Associates was an eight-man lawfirm whose specialty was corporate law.

It was six twenty-five when Mace stepped outof the elevator and walked to the plate-glass doorshe knew would be open. No one else would bein the offices yet, so they would have the placeto themselves.

The reception room was neither lavish norshabby. There were shiny green plants and a lotof mahogany. The lighting was subdued and thecarpeting soft. Once, years ago, Mace had toldhis friend that he needed to "slick up the place,"and this was the result.

Mace looked up at the sound of footstepscoming down one of the halls. He fixed a smilehe wasn't feeling onto his face and moved forward.

Some people meeting both men for the firsttime might take them for brothers, or at leastclose relatives. Both men were tall, six-two and-three. Both weighed in at one-seventy or thereabouts.Both liked to dress in custom-cut SavileRow suits. Both had gray hair, and both hadsummer blue eyes even at their age, which was,in both cases, sixty. Both had hawkish noses andstrong chins. They had both been bachelorsuntil three years ago, when Mace had gone offthe rails and married his masseuse, a marriagehe had regretted the moment he returned fromhis Hawaiian honeymoon.

Oliver led the way to his private conferenceroom, where he already had two containers ofDunkin' Donuts coffee and a bag of sugary donutssitting on the table. "Your turn next week,Mace," he said as he handed over napkins andpaper plates.

"Shouldn't you be serving this on fine china,with all the money I pay you?" Mace grumbled.

Oliver laughed, a great, booming sound."Mace, you say that every time we picnic here inthe conference room. One of these days, I'mgoing to surprise you and haul in some finechina just for you. Spit it out, buddy. You looklike hell, by the way."

"I feel like hell. Where's Andrew? I thoughtyou said he wanted to sit in this morning, so hecould do a hatchet job on me." Andrew was thefirm's CPA and a lawyer in his own right.

"It's his turn to carpool this morning. I don'tknow what more he can say except to say it inperson. I faxed his report to your office. Youneed to get rid of her, Mace, before she does anumber on you from which you cannot recover.Wall Street is already rumbling, but then youknow that. I have the divorce papers drawn up;they just have to be filed and served on her. Idid the restraining orders for her and her son.You hired that weasel, and he's biting you big-time.The eviction notice is prepared and readyto be served. The thing is, I want you out ofhere, far away, when all this goes down. Tell meyou understand, Mace?"

"I understand. Did she really divert twenty-sevenmillion dollars to her own bank? I almostlost my lunch when I read that. Yes, yes, I know Inever should have put her son in charge of thelegal department. Look, I was stupid, okay? I'msorry I didn't listen to you. I admit to being thebiggest fool to walk the face of the Earth. Whatmore do you want me to say, Oliver?"

Oliver massaged his chin as he stared at hisfriend. "Do not worry about the money. We canfreeze the money. I have a very good man whoexcels at such things. But I want her out of yourapartment before I do that. At the proper moment,her credit cards will be canceled, rightalong with everything else. The minute she walksout of the building, it will get done. Everythinghas to be synchronized, and you have to be gone.The weasel will also be escorted from your corporateoffices by your security. I need you to tellme you are okay with all of this, Mace."

"What about the prenup?" Mace asked.

"Ten million dollars if the marriage lasts fiveyears. It's cut-and-dried. When I draw up a prenup,I draw up a prenup. No way on this Earthcan it be broken. She gets nothing other thanwhat you've given her in the way of jewelry andher own personal bank account, which, by theway, has over eight hundred thousand dollars init. That, plus what you paid her son for doingnothing and screwing up your legal department,is more than fair for three years of marriage.I also took the liberty of canceling thelease on his apartment in Trump Towers thatyou're on the hook for. What I mean is, it will becanceled the moment your security walks himout of the building."

"Should I worry about any of this, Oliver?"

"Hell, yes, you should worry. Your wife is agreedy, vindictive woman. She's already sayingyou're over the edge and doing insane things tothe detriment of the company. Your shareholdersare not going to like that. As I said, the boys onthe street are making rumbling noises. No matterhow you look at it, Mace, it's a mess. Now,when are you planning on leaving?"

"As soon as I walk out of here. I can't go backto that place. The minute she's out, put it up forsale and be sure to get the locks changed. Youhave someone who can handle all of that, right?Oh, and have someone pack up my things andput them in storage. In the meantime, I can buywhat I need when I get to where I'm going."

"Where are you going, Mace?"

"I don't know. When I arrive, I'll let you know.Here," he said, tossing his cell phone across theconference table. "I bought a new one. When Icall you, you'll be able to see the number. Hereare my credit cards. I've seen enough spy moviesabout people going on the run and the goodguys tracking them by their cell phones andcredit cards."

"Take mine, Mace. At least take my passport.The picture is bad enough that no one will looktwice. We could pass for each other anytime,anyplace. You need cash, too."

"Yes, I know, but I didn't want to risk going tothe bank and taking money out. I didn't want totip my hand. Give me some cash out of one ofmy escrow funds. One last thing; I want you tohave my power of attorney, Oliver."

"Not necessary. The old one is still good, Mace.How much cash do you want?"

Mace grimaced. "A wad. I can always call youif I run out. Okay, now what is my cover story?"

Oliver blinked. "You're asking me? You're theone taking it on the lam. I thought...