Hide (Detective D.D. Warren, #2)(98)

He tapped the counter in front of Gretchen. She finally looked up.

"What?" he asked softly.

"Tony Rock's mom," the receptionist whispered back.

"Ah jeez."

"He called in about thirty minutes ago. He didn't sound good at all. Sergeant Warren's been trying to reach him since, but he's not answering his phone."

"Ah no."

"Probably just needs some time."

"Sure. That stinks. When you find out about the memorial service…"

"I'll let everyone know," Gretchen promised.

Bobby nodded his thanks and headed straight for D.D.'s office. She was on the phone but held up one finger when she saw him. He leaned against the doorjamb, listening to one side of a conversation that mostly consisted of "Yes, mmmhmmm, that's right." Must be talking to the brass.

Bobby rested his shoulder against the wooden frame. All of sudden, he felt exhausted. The stakeout in the woods. D.D. pinned to the ground, being mauled by a giant Rottweiler. Realizing she was okay, calling Annabelle, only to hear her frightened voice over the phone. Another mad dash across town, wondering what he would find, worrying he would be too late.

Was this how Annabelle's father had felt, once upon a time? As if life was spinning out of his control? As if he could see the train coming but couldn't get off the tracks?

Christ, he needed a good night's sleep.

D.D. finally hung up the phone. "Sorry about that," she said curtly "Rock's—"

"Already heard."

"Naturally, he'll be out for a few days."

" 'Course."

"Meaning…"

"Hey, hard work is good for us. Builds character."

"So," she said.

[page]"So Russell Granger's real name is Roger Grayson. He, his wife—Lucille Grayson—and their newborn daughter, Amy Grayson, were stalked by Roger's deranged brother, Tommy Grayson, while living in Philadelphia. Roger believed Tommy went so far as to murder Lucy's parents one afternoon when they took Amy to the park. Shortly thereafter, Roger made arrangements to move his entire family to Arlington and live under the assumed name Granger. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to get fake ID, so all financial records remained under their original identities. According to Paul Schuepp, former head of mathematics at MIT, Roger became convinced in '82 that Tommy had found them. That's when he arranged for the family to run a second time, this time doing the job right."

"Holy crap," D.D. said.

"Got a friend running down Roger's name, Lucille's name, Tommy's name, and a few others. Tommy has a criminal history, so it should be in the system. Million-dollar question is, once Tommy realized Annabelle's family had slipped away from him, did he hang in Massachusetts or hit the road? Oh, and where is he now?"

D.D. rubbed her temples. "Our prime suspect is Tommy Grayson?"

"Yeah. Sorry to disappoint you, but I think Annabelle's father is dead."

"But the whole posing as an FBI agent—"

"Russell made the same connection we did—that Catherine looked remarkably like Annabelle. He worried the attack on Catherine was Tommy's work. Given his desire to remain under the radar, he couldn't go to the police, so he handled the matter himself."

"But Tommy wasn't Catherine's attacker."

"No, Catherine's resemblance to Annabelle is pure coincidence. Umbrio's methodology, however, probably inspired Tommy's use of an underground chamber two years later. So the cases have a relationship, but a distant one."

"And Christopher Eola?"

"Most likely a murderer, just not our murderer."

"Charlie Marvin?"

"An honest-to-goodness retired minister who works at the Pine Street Inn. According to witnesses, he was there last night."

"Adam Schmidt?"

"Haven't the foggiest. You'd have to ask Sinkus."

"He's been looking for you," D.D. supplied. "He spent the afternoon with Jill Cochran from Boston State Mental. You two need to catch up."

Bobby stared at her. "That's it? I nail down the real identity of Annabelle's father, crack the case wide open, and you're on my ass because I haven't magically debriefed with my fellow detectives yet?"

"I'm not on your ass," she retorted crankily. "But I am thinking all your brilliance has still left us with an obvious hole."

"Which is?"

"Where the hell is Tommy Grayson right now, other than skulking around Annabelle's apartment and leaving trained attack dogs in the woods?"

"Well, next time I'll deliver the suspect on a silver platter."

"Seems to me," D.D. continued as if she hadn't heard him, "that if the rest of the Grayson family adopted new identities, why not Tommy? And our best chance of penetrating this identity and finding the SOB sooner rather than later is to probe the other piece of the puzzle we know."

"Other piece of the puzzle?"

"Boston State Mental."

"Oh," Bobby said rather stupidly. Then, in the next instant, as the light went on: "Okay Yeah. All right. We're back to our original theory—the killer must have had some kind of association with Boston State Mental to be comfortable burying six bodies on the grounds. Meaning, if our killer is Tommy Grayson—"