“I guess it’s possible. Maybe even probable.”
His mother sat on the arm of his easy chair and patted David’s shoulder. “You’re okay, and that’s the important thing. I’m glad you can take care of yourself.”
“No, the important thing is that someone else might have helped this vile piece of murdering shit,” Glenn said and his eyes narrowed. “Who you seem to pity, David.”
“No.” David shook his head in denial. “Okay, yes, I felt pity, but not like you think.”
“Then explain it to me,” Glenn growled.
“Glenn,” his mother said, rebuke in her tone.
“Phoebe,” Glenn shot back. “This so-called schizo could have come up here. You would have been here, not your black-belt son who can defend himself. That guy had a goddamn gun and he would have gone after you. Did you even think about that, David?”
Glenn stood, fists clenched, chest heaving from his outburst. Wordlessly David rose from his chair and motioned Glenn to sit, but Glenn shook his head hard.
“What kind of pity did you feel?” Glenn asked, more quietly, but no less intensely.
“How many bodies have you seen? How long have they haunted you?”
“Too many and too long,” Glenn answered levelly. “But I didn’t kill them.”
“Exactly. He killed her and he didn’t even have his full sanity to get him through it. Should he be held accountable? Hell, yes. But he is not the man he was. Twelve years ago he was an undiagnosed schizophrenic, vulnerable, looking for something. Now, he’s pathetic. I didn’t want to feel anything for him, but I did. Maybe that makes me weak, I don’t know, but I did feel.” He was inches from Glenn’s face and backed away, drawing a breath. “I’m not necessarily proud of that, but there it is.”
“I think I’ll sit now.” Glenn took the easy chair and briefly closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Oh yes, I do. “It’s all right. You were right about the danger to Ma. I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have come straight here from the cabin to check on her.”
“She is right here,” his mother said pointedly. “And she is fine,” she added kindly. She patted Glenn’s arm as she’d done to David’s. “I have to go to dinner. I’m late.”
“I’ll drive you,” David said, raising his hand to silence her protest. “I know you’re a good driver, but Glenn is right. The more I think about it, Lincoln had to have help finding me. Until we’re clear on who that was and why, I’m going to be more careful with you.”
“All right, son. Are you going to be here tonight?”
He hesitated. Olivia was meeting him at the cabin. If the night ended as badly as last night had, he’d be back. If it ended like this morning… But that was selfish. He couldn’t let himself think about what might have happened had Lincoln come up here first. His mother’s safety was the priority until this was sorted.
Still, there were things he and Olivia needed to discuss. “Yes, but I’ll be out until maybe ten or eleven. What time will you be finished with Evie and Noah?”
She studied him carefully. “It would be easier if I stayed with Evie tonight. That way they don’t have to drive me back after dinner. I’ll pack a few things.” She rose, looking down at Glenn. “Invitation’s still open. You’re welcome to join us for dinner.”
Glenn shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m beat. And I want to talk to the boy here.”
David waited until his mother had left the room. “And the boy wants to talk to you. But I have to run down to 2A and find out which of those girls talked to Lincoln and give them a talking-to. Drive with me to drop off my mother and we can talk on the way back. I’ve got to be at the dojo at seven and after that, I’ve got a… something. Maybe a date.”
“The pretty blond cop gave you another chance?” Glenn asked, amused. “You must be one hell of a smooth talker.”
“I have my moments.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday, September 21, 5:55 p.m.
Olivia and Kane found Ian staring at skull X-rays on the morgue’s light board.
Olivia winced. The skull shown was crushed in several places. “What’d he hit?”
“His steering wheel, his windshield, the frame of his car as he rolled down an embankment, and then, I think, three trees. He was brought in on Monday.”
“Why are we looking at him?” Kane asked.
“You remember last night, when you were checking that camp and I told you to leave, that I had another autopsy to do? That was this guy. Joel Fischer. No history of smoking. Then I did the cut. He had damage to his upper airways. Smoke inhalation.”
The hairs rose on the back of Olivia’s neck. “What kind of smoke?”
“First I thought he’d inhaled smoke at the accident scene, but I checked-there was no fire. Then his urine tox came back loaded with oxycodone. I’m surprised he was even able to drive the car. On a hunch, I ran a blood test. Traces of cyanide.”
“He was poisoned?” Kane asked and Ian shook his head.
“Not in this case, especially because he’s also got high levels of carbon monoxide. He inhaled burning plastic.”
“A structural fire,” Olivia said. “Oh my God. And Tracey Mullen’s blood screen?”
“Acute cyanide toxicity. It doesn’t mean they were in the same fire, but they were in the same type of fire. A burning building with carpet, furniture, something polymer based.”
“He was there,” Kane said. “Sonofabitch. So how does the X-ray fit it?”
“Glad you asked.” Ian put another skull X-ray next to Joel Fischer’s. The second film showed a single crack at the base of the skull. “Look at the same place on Joel’s skull.”
Kane leaned forward. “Same crack, although it gets lost in all the other damage.”
“Which is why I didn’t catch it the first time,” Ian said. “This second X-ray belongs to Henry Weems, the security guard. It’s not conclusive, but I’d say it’s highly possible they were struck by the same weapon, by the same person.”
“Did Joel Fischer have gunshot residue on his hands?” Olivia asked.
“No. I checked,” Ian said. “He could have cleaned it off, but I found no trace.”
“Do you still have this Fischer kid’s body?” Kane asked.
“I do, and it’s causing me quite the headache. The Fischers are Orthodox Jews and had his funeral and burial set up for this afternoon. They had to cancel because I wouldn’t release the body until I got this blood test back. They are very upset with me.”
“They’ll be more upset with us,” Olivia predicted grimly. “This is good, Ian. Gold.”
“Here’s the Fischer kid’s info,” he added, handing her a printout before she could ask. “I’ve released Weems’s body and it’s gone. What’s the status on the Mullen girl? Her dad ID’d her last night. She’s free to go.”
“Mom was supposed to claim her today. Last I heard, her flight was delayed,” Olivia said. “I have a cell number. I’ll find out where she is. There’s still the question of who caused Tracey’s abuse injuries. I don’t want to lose that in all the rest of this.”
“I never thought you would. The mom might come straight here from the airport. You want me to stall her until you two can get here?”
“Definitely,” Kane said. “We need to see her and her new husband’s faces when we tell them about her injuries.” They said good night to Ian and left the morgue. “So which first? Blue Moon for Lincoln’s alibi or Joel Fischer’s house?”
“Blue Moon. Then we can get Crawford off Abbott’s back.”
“All that’s going to do is show if Lincoln was involved in our fires,” Kane disagreed. “Crawford’s not going to give up that our fires are domestic terrorism until we prove that they’re not. Which they could still be. These arsonists knew about the mark on the North Pole. And if a university kid was there…” He opened the morgue door for her.