“She was pissed at her stepfather,” Tom said.
“Because she holds him responsible for her mother’s death. She loved her mother.”
“So she might not hurt Grandma.” Tom’s voice took a hopeful note.
“Right.” It might not be true, but, like tending others, the notion helped him stay sane. “What else?”
“We know Mary and Joel met in an environmental ethics class,” Olivia said behind him. He started to get up, but she perched on her desk. “And that killing Joel upset her.”
“She believed,” Tom murmured. “She believed in Preston Moss.”
“Or she knew re-creating Moss’s fires were the best way to get back at Crawford,” David said. “Somehow she sought out Lincoln through that Web site, earned his confidence. He told her information that nobody else had. I wonder who first brought up the idea of the condo arson. Mary or Joel?”
“I’m betting Mary,” Olivia said, “and that Joel thought it was his idea.” She hesitated. “We also think we know who Jonathan is. Or at least who the blackmailer is.”
Both David and Tom stared. “Who?” David demanded.
“I know it sounds crazy, but Kirby. From the Deli. All the blackmail victims went there. He has access to their e-mail. And he resembles the man Austin saw.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “I told you about that free Wi-Fi. You said I was paranoid.”
David’s mind was reeling. “You are, but that’s okay.”
“Why aren’t we going to the Deli to get him?” Tom demanded.
“He’s not there,” Olivia said patiently. “We’re going for a warrant and I’ve got some work to do to help with that. You guys should go get some food or coffee or something. Just not at the Deli. Promise me. I don’t want him scared off.”
She met David’s eyes, hers a little too intense. “Don’t lose faith.”
His eyes narrowed. “Something’s about to happen.”
“We may have another trick up our sleeve.” She laid her finger across his lips. “Don’t ask. I wasn’t going to tell you that much. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
If it doesn’t work. “Why did you tell me then?” he murmured against her finger.
Pain filled her eyes. “I need you to know I’m doing everything I can.”
Covering her hand with his, he pressed it hard to his lips. “I know you are.”
“Go get something to eat,” she whispered. “Let us do our jobs.”
He watched her walk away, then hauled his body out of the chair, feeling a million years old. “We haven’t checked on Glenn.”
“I did, when you were bandaging up Olivia,” Tom said. “He’s physically fine. They’ll let him go tomorrow. He told me to tell you to keep looking for Grandma, not to visit him.”
“Then let’s go.”
“To do which? Look for Grandma or get something to eat?”
“Both,” David said grimly.
They went down the elevator and out the door, and David couldn’t hold back the shudder at the bloodstains on the sidewalk. The area was barricaded off with yellow tape and passersby stared. Olivia’s okay, he told himself. She wasn’t shot. But she could have been. If not today, then next week. Next month. Any time in the future.
“Part of me wants to keep her out of the path of bullets.” He blinked, unaware he’d said it out loud until he heard it.
“She probably wants to keep you out of the path of fiery, falling beams,” Tom replied soberly. “And I’d agree with her. But she won’t ask and neither will I.”
“It’s who I am. It’s who she is, too.”
“She’s careful,” Tom said. “Dana never was.”
That’s how Olivia’s different. She had the same need to protect without the drama Dana had always had swirling around her. Olivia got the job done. Efficiently and quietly. She’d do what needed to be done, the right way. A ringing phone startled him from his thoughts and David realized it was coming from his own pocket. He pulled out the prepaid cell he’d forgotten he still had. “Hello?”
“David? This is Truman Jefferson. I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Not at all. What’s wrong?”
“After you left, the police shut me down for the afternoon, to process the scene. I went home, tried to get some work done, and I found some pictures that Lincoln took. One of his jobs was taking photos of new listings to put on our Web site, but these pictures show a property that isn’t one of my listings. I don’t recognize the location, but it’s a cabin near some kind of a park. Some of the pictures show a lake, which I know isn’t helpful. But I wanted to tell you because some of the pictures have Mary in them. I guess they went there together. I thought you needed to know.”
David’s mind started racing and then his feet were, too. Tom pulled ahead, leading him to where he’d parked the car. “Can you describe the park?” David asked urgently.
“It’s old. Just an old-fashioned park, like when I was a kid. A sandbox, a metal swing set, a merry-go-round-you know, the ones that look like a flat spaceship.”
“Yeah, I know.” He did. He’d seen that little park, Monday morning when he’d taken Olivia up in the bucket. She’d taken pictures. She’d have the layout. “Any specific features on this cabin?” He got in the passenger side of the car, and Tom was pulling into traffic before he’d shut his door. “The condo,” he told Tom.
“It has a green awning on the back,” Truman said, “but no house number. I’m sorry.”
“No, this is amazing. This is good.”
“Mary may not be there, but it’s a place she and Lincoln must have liked.”
“Have you seen Lincoln?”
“They let me visit him this afternoon, but he was too doped up to talk. The psychiatrist told me you were kind to him. I wanted to thank you.”
“It’s okay. If you find anything else out, please call me.”
“Wait,” Tom said. “Ask if he can scan those pictures in and send them to my e-mail.”
“Yes,” Truman said after David gave him Tom’s e-mail address. “I’ll do that right now. Good luck. God bless.”
“Thank you.” David closed his phone and closed his eyes, visualizing the scene. “It’s one of those cabins at the lake near the condo. I took Olivia up in the bucket to see the layout and I saw the park. From the bucket, it was at eleven o’clock. We won’t be able to see the awning from the road. We’ll have to come in from the back.”
“Do you have any weapons?” Tom asked.
“No. Hopefully Mary hasn’t improved her marksmanship in the last five hours.” He dialed Olivia and swore softly when he got her voice mail, again. “It’s David. I may know where they are. Check the photos you took from the bucket at the condo. It’s a cabin with a green awning. Call me.” He called the police department’s main number and gave them the same information, then he buckled his seat belt. “Drive faster, kid.”
Wednesday, September 22, 7:10 p.m.
The sun was setting and for the first time Phoebe wondered if David would be too late. Mary was growing more agitated, hugging herself as she paced the floor. Phoebe had seen the track marks on her arms and knew she was starting to withdraw. Mary had been unpredictable. She still held the gun, but carelessly by the barrel, not by the handle.
Mary had made her stop the car about a half mile from the cabin in which they now hid. She’d obviously been here before, going straight to an unlocked window and forcing Phoebe through. She’d then tied her to a chair with, ironically, the pull cords from the window blinds. If I ever get out of here, David and Glenn will laugh at that.
Mary was pacing, tapping the gun against her palm. Calm her down, if you can. “If you’ll untie me, I’ll make you some hot tea,” Phoebe said. “I see a kettle on the stove.”
Mary threw her a glare. “You’re crazy. I tie you up and you want to be nice to me?”
“Frankly, if I had that gun I would shoot you. I wouldn’t kill you, but I’d make it so you couldn’t chase me. But I don’t have the gun and you look like you need some tea.”
“You’re a strange woman, Phoebe.” Her mouth trembled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”