Dan Franklin was ready to go to the media with the story as soon as Baldwin’s people gave the okay sign Judas Kiss

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that they’d raided the California Selectnet offices and taken possession of their physical records. Taylor and Marcus were ready to pick up Henry Anderson. Lincoln was set up in a private office, working with one of Baldwin’s forensic accountants, trying to unravel more of the Wolffs’ financial trail. Considering the accountant was petite and blond, Lincoln didn’t seem terribly put out.

Fitz was at the ME’s office. A quick autopsy was being performed on Aiden, courtesy of one of Baldwin’s calls to Quantico. Garrett Woods had sent down a staff forensic pathologist to help Sam with the evidentiary trail.

All these law enforcement folks, acting as one big happy family. They were lucky to have a good working relationship between all the jurisdictions involved. Taylor had to admit, it was nice to work with Baldwin again. His calm, cool demeanor always helped an investigation along, especially in the critical moments before they blew it wide open.

And at the moment, the man in question had his feet propped on the edge of her desk, watching her finagle a warrant for Henry Anderson. His green cat eyes were practically dancing with merriment watching her go through the elaborate machinations with the judge she’d pulled. It was the newly elected female judge, Sophia Bottelli, the former prosecutor who was adamant about i dotting and t crossing. Promise of a signature finally secured, Taylor hung up the phone and looked at Baldwin’s grinning visage.

“You look like a Halloween jack-o’-lantern. Could you smile any bigger?”

He swung his feet off her desk. “This whole week 354

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has been unreal. You’ve been raked over the coals, humiliated, yelled at by your fiancé, yet here you are, unscathed, ready to swoop in and take down the bad guy. I love it when you do that.”

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Think we’ve got it all covered?”

“I’d still like to know why Michelle Harris went on the national news and tried to discredit me. All I’ve tried to do is help her and her family.”

“Grief makes people do strange things.”

“Well, that’s true. When I first met her, I don’t know, there was something off about her. I’m probably just imagining things, it was a horrible moment for that whole family. Her mom was crying in the chaplain’s arms, sobbing her heart out, the dad was in shock, the other sister was blank as a slate. Michelle was the only one who had any semblance of composure about her. When she came into the room, there was this moment where she looked almost feral. She covered it up quickly, I’ve never seen it again, but for that instant…this is going to sound stupid.”

“No, go on.”

“It was like she wanted me. Sexually, I mean.”

“She isn’t married, is she?”

“No. She’s…” She cocked her head to the side.

“You know, I don’t know too much about her. I was so busy focusing on Corinne that I didn’t look too far into the rest of the family. Then we have the lovely moments without a badge this week. I’ve glossed over too much. We’ll have to spend the next few weeks filling in all the pieces. Never mind about Michelle. There’s nothing there. Like I said, it was probably my imagination.”

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Marcus knocked on her door. “Hey, I was talking to Sam, she wants to talk to you. I’m going to transfer her in, okay?”

“Sure.” Taylor waited for the buzz that indicated a forwarded internal call, then picked up the receiver.

“I refuse to go to any more charity events,” Taylor said.

“Then goodie for you that’s not what I’m calling about. I have something you’re going to love.”

Taylor snickered. “Goodie for me? What are we, five? What’s the big news?”

“DNA’s back on Corinne Wolff.”

“Ooh, you’re right. That is something I want. Give it to me, sister.”

“You’re not going to believe this. The semen deposit was left by Henry Anderson.”

“Henry Anderson, as in my video-crazy pedophile?

The one who Todd Wolff was working for?”

“Todd Wolff was working for Henry Anderson?”

“Long story, but yes. In a nutshell, that’s exactly what’s been happening.”

“There’s more.”

“What?”

“Henry Anderson was the father of Corinne Wolff’s son.”

Taylor clicked the speakerphone button, gestured at Baldwin to pay attention. “Say that again.”

“Todd Wolff was not the father. The DNA on the fetus shows that Henry Anderson was the father of Corinne Wolff’s child.”

“Sam, you are the greatest gift a homicide detective could ever have.”

“Well, thank the mayor, because if he hadn’t asked 356

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for the proof that we could streamline the system, I never would have put this case’s DNA on the fast track.”

“I hope this means you’re getting a new lab?”

“I don’t know, T. I gotta run, we’ve got Aiden’s autopsy done and I need to write up some notes. By the way, tell Baldwin the crime scene techs found Aiden’s clothes in a bin behind the McDonald’s on West End. We’ll get that sent to his lab, if he’d like.”

Baldwin said, “Yes, please, Sam. Did you find an ID?”

“There was a wallet and a passport, both with ID

in the name of Jasper Lohan. High-end stuff, they look legitimate.”

“Jasper Lohan. I don’t recognize that name for him. No wonder we lost him in St. Louis. Cunning bastard.”

He wrote a quick note, then said, “Okay. Thanks.”

They hung up with promises to have dinner over the weekend. The banality of the arrangements made Taylor long for some peace and quiet, reminded her that she wasn’t like everyone else. Making plans was a luxury, a formality. In most cases, either she or Sam, or Baldwin, or Sam’s husband Simon, would be called to work a case. They lived in twenty-four-hour-a-day jobs, their lives cordoned off at the whim of a criminal. Taylor toyed with a pencil. “Corinne’s mother was right. Corinne was having an affair.”

“Goes a long way toward explaining the claustrophobia that Corinne was suffering from. A psychosomatic response to infidelity. Maybe she and Henry had broken up and she found herself pregnant.”

“If they’d broken up, why did she have sex with him right before she died? And why do these—” she waved Judas Kiss

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the stack of love notes taken off Corinne Wolff’s computer at him “—have recent dates? No, Corinne was still deep into the affair.”

“Well, a better question is, did Henry Anderson kill her?”

Taylor thought about that for a moment. “I think Todd did it. That level of rage—I can see Todd finding out his wife was cheating on him, maybe even learning that the baby wasn’t his child, and snapping. We have the evidence against him, the blood in his truck, on his toolbox. A stranger isn’t going to know about the drawers in her closet, that’s an intimate spot to stash the tennis racquet after you’ve beaten someone to death with it. He’s been lying from the beginning, saying he was in Savannah when he was really in Nashville, or within a tank of gas to Nashville. Why did he lie if he didn’t kill her? It’s a helluva lot easier to prove an alibi that’s real than create a false one. No, my money is still on Todd. Henry Anderson is scum, but he’s a pussy. He’s a manipulator, someone who knows what buttons to push to take advantage of people. Blatant violence seems a bit strong for him.

“But I may be wrong. It’s been ten years since I’ve had this guy on my radar. He may have changed. Obviously being in jail didn’t help him find the error of his ways and clean up. It’s entirely possible that he did kill her.”

She stopped, lost in thought again.

“You know, Baldwin, you were right. When I told you about my interview with Dr. Ricard, Corinne’s therapist, and she hinted that Corinne had a lover. You hit the nail on the head about the baby not being Todd Wolff’s.”