Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10)(106)

“She came to see me.”

I don’t speak. Now that the moment has arrived, I am genuinely frightened by what I’ll hear next.

“She told me to stay away from her husband. The whole ‘how dare you’ speech.” Katarina sounds bored. “Followed by the ‘if I can’t have him, no one will.’”

“What did she mean?”

Katarina arches a brow. “What do you think she meant?”

I can’t breathe. I think the coffee shop is too hot, too crowded. My mother, famous for her rages. If she really thought my father was going to leave her for another woman—especially one as beautiful and gifted as Katarina Ivanova. My mother, whose entire world had revolved around her husband, nurturing his genius, protecting his legacy. A widow was well respected. A jilted ex-wife, on the other hand …

“She couldn’t have done it herself.”

That steady stare.

“Who would she … How would she … I mean, this is my mom. It’s not like she has a number for some hired shooter next to home repair.”

Katarina finally smiles. “She does not need such a number.”

“What do you mean?”

“She already knows who to call. Don’t you?”

I can only stare at her in confusion. The gorgeous professor finally shakes her head. “You really do not know your family, do you?”

“I guess not.”

“Do you still want to know the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m not the one to talk to, for I honestly do not have the answers. Suspicions, yes. Answers, no.”

I understand. Where I need to go next. Whom I must see next.

Katarina rises to standing. She is done with me. And most likely, based on my washed-out, shell-shocked features, she assumes I really will take it no further. People think they want knowledge. Until they have it, of course.

I watch her weave her way through the crowded room. The way certain men glance up, then look again. The smile she has for each and every one of them. She is beautiful, beguiling, and brilliant.

If I see that, my mother saw that, too. This new and unexpected danger to her heart, her family, her very identity.

I finally rise to standing. What I need to learn next can’t happen here.

I’m just leaving the coffee shop when I first hear the sound of sirens.





CHAPTER 35


    D.D.


“WE GOT A PROBLEM.” PHIL hung up his phone, turned to D.D., who was just now climbing into the vehicle.

“Talk,” D.D. demanded. They’d wrapped up the scene at the Delaney fire and were now headed for Cambridge, given Flora’s suspicion that their arsonist, Rocket Langley, was headed for Evie’s mother’s house next.

“A series of fires have erupted in Cambridge.”

“Rocket is already at Evie’s mother’s house?”

“No. Harvard campus. Trash-can fires. Three, four, five. I’m not sure. Calls are still pouring into the fire department. Details are sketchy, but it sounds like there’s a series of fires all over campus.”

D.D. didn’t know what to say. “What are the odds our firebug was last seen headed for Cambridge, and now there’s a string of fires on the Harvard campus? Except”—she glanced at Phil in confusion—“Rocket is known for structural fires. Why the hell would he suddenly be messing around with something as petty as trash-can fires.”

Phil shrugged. “Got bored? Killing time? I don’t know. I’m still not sure why anyone likes fire so much. But I’m with you—Rocket was last seen headed toward Cambridge. These new fires must be his handiwork. Too coincidental to be anything else.”

D.D. shook her head. “As soon as this case almost makes sense, it runs away from us again. Burning Evie’s house I can get. Torch Evie’s lawyer’s house, sure. But trash-can fires on a campus where Evie’s father worked sixteen years ago? That defies all logic.” She scowled, whacked the dashboard of Phil’s car, scowled again. “Any sightings of Rocket?”

“Not yet. But the fire department is just now arriving on-site. And given it’s a college campus right before Christmas break …”

“Tons of panicked students milling about.”

“I’ll let Flora know,” Phil said.

“Really? You’re in charge of my CI now? I thought you didn’t even like her.”

“She’s had a couple of good points on this case. Plus, she’s already headed to Cambridge. Given the traffic we’re about to hit, she’ll be there way before us. And as you said”—Phil shrugged uncomfortably—“she knows what Rocket looks like. That helps.”

“Fine. Manage my CI. See if I care.” But D.D. was frowning again. They were chasing their tails. Worse, they were chasing a firebug’s arson spree. A good investigator didn’t just react to all the crimes going on around her. She got ahead of the game.

Three fire events. Evie’s home. Dick Delaney’s town house. And now a spree at the Harvard campus where Evie’s father had once worked.

What the hell had Conrad stumbled upon? Because of all their avenues of investigation, the angle that made the most sense was Conrad’s involvement with the dark web. All those years he’d spent running his own undercover operations. The level of trust and access he would’ve gained over time. The secrets he might have learned …