“Just an hour or so ago,” Jake said. “Annie wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

The woman dropped her head into her hands, the cigarette coming dangerously close to singeing her hair. “Oh, no,” she moaned, then raised her head and asked quickly, “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Annie said. “He’s at the police station.”

Virginia looked fearful. “He’s going to need a lawyer but I can’t afford it.”

“They’ll find him a legal aid lawyer, a public defender,” Jake said.

Annie knew the woman had talked to her son but didn’t know if she was aware of the last two murders. She didn’t want to bring them up right now; Virginia would find out soon enough. She looked closely at the distraught woman and said, “His memory is hazy on the murders of Nina White and Raymond Ronson. He can’t remember any of the details.” She hesitated. “Did he tell you anything at all about them?”

Virginia shook her head. “Last time I talked to him he didn’t remember anything at all.”

“He told me he was fond of both of them,” Annie said. “That’s what makes it so perplexing.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” Virginia said, tears in her eyes. “Maybe that’s why he put the roses in their mouths, a symbol of some kind to show he cared about them.”

Annie glanced at Jake as he coughed, choking on a swig of coffee. She turned back to Mrs. Thorburn. “We thought perhaps he had a crush on Nina White at one time. Did he ever mention that?”

Virginia shook her head. “Not to me.”

Jake stood. “I think I’ll get a little more cream in my coffee if you don’t mind.” He picked up his cup and wandered toward the kitchen.

Annie continued, “The police are going to want to talk to you soon.”

Virginia nodded her head, her voice weak. “I know.” She looked at Annie, her eyes pleading. “But I was only trying to help my son.”

“I realize that,” Annie said. “I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration.”

Jake returned, put his coffee cup on the table and sat, leaning toward the woman. “Mrs. Thorburn,” he asked, “how did you know about the roses in the mouths of the victims? The police didn’t release that information.”

Virginia’s eyes widened and she stared at Jake. “I … I. Adam must’ve told me.”

“Adam doesn’t remember any of the details,” Jake said flatly, then raised his voice. “What’re you not telling us?” He stood and dropped his arms on the table, leaning in closer. “Why does Adam not remember the first two murders but you know all about them?”

Annie looked curiously at her husband. She wasn’t sure what he was up to, but he had a good point about the roses and the woman’s knowledge of the murders.

Virginia didn’t answer Jake’s questions. She looked frantically back and forth between Jake and Annie.

“You claim to be such a caring mother,” Jake continued. “And yet you don’t want your son to get the help he needs. That made me very suspicious, but now I know for sure.” He narrowed his eyes. “Virginia Thorburn,” he said, his voice taking on an accusing tone, “did you kill Nina White and Raymond Ronson and frame your son?”

The woman gasped and froze, staring at Jake. Then she pushed back her chair and stumbled into the kitchen.

Annie stared bug-eyed, the realization hitting her. She sprang after the woman, then stopped short when Virginia stepped from the kitchen, a grim look on her face and a shiny new pistol gripped in one hand.

“You just couldn’t leave it alone,” she said. “You couldn’t mind your own business and now you leave me no choice.”

Jake still sat at the table. Annie stepped backwards and dropped into her chair as Virginia moved to a phone on the wall, picked up the receiver, and dialed a number.

“You’d better get over here,” the woman said into the phone. “We have a big problem.”

Chapter 46

Thursday, 4:21 p.m.

HANK HAD A STACK of paperwork to do, a lot of loose ends to tie up, and a long list of questions he needed answered before he could close the case and take a much-needed rest.

Adam Thorburn had been placed in a holding cell and put on suicide watch. He was given a change of clothes, his old ones taken to the lab for forensic experts to examine. Traces of gunshot residue, blood spatter, and anything found in his pockets would be examined and documented.

The suspected murder weapon found at the old Cochran house where Adam had hidden out was also in the lab, and it would be inspected as well. CSI was still at the scene where they would go over the dwelling thoroughly. Their report would be forthcoming, but Hank didn’t expect it would shed any further light on the investigation. Everything was pretty cut and dried.

He’d sent King out with a handful of officers to locate the bodies of the two latest victims Adam had mentioned. They’d be gone awhile, and Hank wanted to get as much work as possible done on the case before they returned.

Following the interview of Adam Thorburn, the Lincolns had left the precinct without giving their statements. They had to get home to Matty. Hank planned to drop by their place later and get the rest of the details, but for now, he was satisfied with the information he’d obtained from them.

And now, he wanted to request a warrant for the arrest of Virginia Thorburn. He had sufficient factual information to establish probable cause she’d committed a crime, and a written affidavit to a judge would be all that was necessary. She would be brought in, questioned at length, and charged with harboring a fugitive. It would then be up to the crown whether or not they wanted to pursue those charges, but Hank had to do his job.

He thumbed through a stack of paperwork on the edge of his desk, removed the folder on Virginia Thorburn, and leafed through it. As he copied the pertinent information to the arrest warrant, something caught his eye. Something didn’t add up that he never noticed before.

He decided to dig a little deeper and he turned to his computer, searching through a variety of databases. From what he could find through birth, death, and marriage records, Virginia and Adam’s father, Mason Thorburn, had been married eight years ago. Virginia was Adam’s stepmother, not his mother.

Adam’s birth mother had died when he was an infant, and Virginia was the only mother he’d ever known. That must be why Adam always referred to her as his mother. And when Mason had died almost a year ago, she’d been the only family he had left.

It appeared the death of Adam’s father might’ve been the turning point in his life. That’s when he began to worsen, his mental illness producing new and frightful symptoms, ultimately leading to murder.

Hank’s phone rang and he answered it. It was Rod Jameson calling from the forensic lab. “Hank,” Jameson said. “We went over Thorburn’s clothes as well as the weapon. Normally, we would document everything and get it to you as soon as possible, but I wanted to give you a heads-up on our findings—or should I say, our lack thereof.”

“What did you come up with, Rod?” Hank asked.

“We went over the subject’s clothing thoroughly and there were no traces of blood or gunshot residue on any of the articles or on his shoes.”

“He probably changed his clothes,” Hank said. “Perhaps they’ll find his other clothing at the Cochran house.”

“I’ve been in touch with them,” Rod said. “They didn’t find anything. He could’ve thrown them out somewhere. That’s always a possibility, but I wanted to fill you in.”

“Okay, thanks, Rod. Appreciate it.”

“That’s not all.”

“I’m listening,” Hank said.

“We checked the pistol removed from the Cochran house and I believe there’s no mistake. It’s brand new and appears never to have been fired. I can’t tell a hundred per cent, because as you know, they test fire it at the factory and then clean it up. But if it was fired recently, Thorburn did a good job of cleaning it. There’s no residue on it at all.” Jameson paused and took a breath. “And the chamber is completely full.”