David’s mind was spinning. “He said he’d talked to Mary’s brother, who didn’t know where she was. But what if the brother was lying? What if Jonathan’s involved?”
Olivia looked at Noah, then back up at David, confused. “Who’s Jonathan?”
“Mary’s brother,” David said.
Olivia struggled to her feet. “No, Mary’s brother is a doctor. Andy Crawford.”
David frowned. “She’s got two brothers then. One is named Jonathan.” He told them what he and Tom had learned.
“Jonathan’s who Crawford meant,” Olivia said. “He couldn’t have talked to Andy, because I was talking to him on my way back here. Andy’s coming from Wisconsin, to try to help us find Mary.”
“Then let’s find Jonathan,” David said grimly.
Wednesday, September 22, 6:20 p.m.
He would have preferred to have shot Crawford in the head, but he’d been forced to choose a wider target as he’d shot from a moving car. He thought Crawford would never duck around those tall men. He’d been arguing with Sutherland. If he’d told them about me, they would have run for their cars. So he thought he was safe, for now.
He pulled over, taking his gun and laptop. Webster had made out his plate, which didn’t matter as the plate was stolen. Still, it was too dangerous to keep driving this car around with a million cops searching for him. He’d steal one, then go find Mary.
Then it was time to go. He’d had a good run here, developed some skills. He’d get the fake ID he kept stashed in his safe-deposit box and start over somewhere cool. As long as he had his offshore bank numbers, the world was his damn oyster.
Wednesday, September 22, 6:30 p.m.
Olivia looked up when the conference room door opened and immediately wished she hadn’t. The room careened around her, taking her stomach with it. David closed the door behind him, in his eyes the abject terror that had been there since Mary drove off with his mother.
“You need to get x-rayed.” He dropped the handful of items he carried on the table. “Tylenol, ice packs, a clean T-shirt from Micki, and a clean vest from Abbott.”
She shrugged out of the shirt, happy not to be wearing Crawford’s blood and guts anymore. But she couldn’t manage the button at her wrist, and David took up the task.
His gaze fixed on the hole in the fabric. He stared a few seconds, his face stark.
Her mind replayed the moment, as she knew his was. The shot, the impact of the bullet, the sudden warmth of blood, the three of them, falling. “I’m sorry, David. I should have gotten what Crawford knew. If I hadn’t been so angry…” She closed her eyes, miserable. “We’d know who the blackmailer is. We might know where Mary is.”
He was quiet as he peeled the bloody vest away and taped an ice pack to her shoulder. “You need to keep that ice pack on for at least twenty minutes, then you can put the vest back on. You’re going to have some loss of rotation in your shoulder.”
He hadn’t responded to her apology and it stung. But what did she expect him to say? That it was all right? It wasn’t. She’d been outraged, acted impulsively, and now Crawford was dead, taking his knowledge with him. If they didn’t get to Phoebe in time… David won’t forgive me. I won’t forgive myself.
“It’s my left arm. I can still shoot.” She popped a Tylenol and pressed the second ice pack to her head. “I need to get back. Thanks for the first aid.”
He helped her to her feet, holding her when she would have bolted. “Olivia, wait. Look at me.” She did and saw no accusation in his eyes. Just raw fear. “You didn’t know Crawford would be killed. Do I wish we knew what he knew? Hell, yes. But in your place, I would have done the same thing. Lincoln did a terrible thing twelve years ago and he should pay for his crime, but Crawford… he was somehow worse.”
She shuddered out a breath and leaned into him. “We’ll find Mary a different way.”
His arms came around her and they clung, taking comfort and strength. “Don’t leave without the new vest,” he whispered fiercely. “Promise me.”
She kissed him softly. “I won’t take chances. I have to get back now.”
She stepped out of the conference room and blinked. Louise Tomlinson was coming out of the elevator. “Mrs. Tomlinson?”
Louise hesitated, then squared her shoulders. “Detective Sutherland. I need to talk to you. It’s important. I heard about Detective Kane on the news. I’m sorry.”
Olivia forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze, rather than looking at Kane’s empty desk. “Thank you. I’m working with Detective Webster on your husband’s murder. Please come with me.”
She led Louise into Abbott’s office where Noah sat at the round table with Barlow and Micki. “Abbott’s with the Feds, dealing with Crawford’s shooting,” he said without looking up. He was studying a printout with narrowed eyes. “I got cell LUDs on both Blunt and Tomlinson. Barlow and Micki have their credit card statements.”
Olivia cleared her throat. “This is Mrs. Tomlinson. This is Detective Webster and Sergeants Barlow and Ridgewell.”
The three of them abruptly lifted their eyes, then Noah stood. “Mrs. Tomlinson, please sit down. We’re all very sorry for your loss.”
Louise took the chair he held out for her. “Thank you. I had a visitor at my house this morning. He said he was a reporter, asked me a lot of questions about my husband, his finances. He started asking very personal questions about the nature of my divorce and I asked him to leave. Thankfully my son was with me. The young man was large and intimidating. The visit upset me and my son insisted I take one of the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed. When I woke up hours later, I watched the news and saw the young man who’d come to my house.”
“What did he look like?” Olivia asked, trying to keep her excitement contained.
“Like this.” Louise drew a folded paper from her purse. “I got it from the Internet. I had to look it up to be sure it was the same man.”
Olivia unfolded it and swallowed her sigh. “Albert.”
Louise nodded. “I didn’t know he was dead until an hour ago. I didn’t know Detective Kane was dead either. My son’s been trying to keep me from becoming too upset. When I realized what had happened, I knew I needed to talk to you. From the questions he asked, I think this Albert person knew my husband had been blackmailed.”
She said it as though the blackmail came as no surprise to her. The sex pictures, Olivia thought. Tomlinson’s blackmail. “How did you know your husband was having an affair, ma’am?”
“He was getting undressed one night and his underwear were on inside out. I’ve folded and put them in his drawer for thirty years. I knew they were right when he put them on. I kept watching, found more signs. Finally I had lunch with a friend and got the name of her PI. A week later the PI brought me pictures. The next day, I got another envelope of pictures in the mail. I was in shock, seeing Barney with that whore…” She swallowed hard. “The pictures that came in the mail weren’t labeled. I guess I assumed they’d come from the PI, too. Now, after that young man visited… I’m not sure.”
“They were taken at different times,” Micki said. “The PI’s photos and the others.”
Louise frowned. “I didn’t notice. I didn’t look at them too closely. I couldn’t.”
“You combined all the pictures and gave them to your attorney?” Olivia asked.
“Yes. If I’d thought about it two nights ago, I would have told you.” Louise’s eyes filled. “I heard about last night’s fire, the firefighter, your partner. I’m so sorry.”
Olivia squeezed her hand. “You didn’t know. You’re here now. You told your friend and the PI about your suspicions about your husband. Did anyone else know?”
“No. I knew Barney would put up a fight if he knew I knew. Maybe even take our money. I had to think of our son, his future. I kept my mouth shut until my lawyer filed the divorce papers.”