David thought about Olivia and Mia’s father, the animal that he’d been. Which always brought back memories of Megan’s stepfather and what he’d done to Megan and her family. Which always made him mad enough to kill. Carefully, David relaxed his fists. “Not personally. Thank God.”

Barlow looked down at David’s hands, then back up, warily. “That bad, huh?”

“Olivia’s father was a miserable sonofabitch who didn’t deserve the air he breathed. Mia didn’t know Olivia existed before their father died. Olivia only knew another family existed, that her father had chosen to live with them and not her and her mother.”

Barlow briefly closed his yes. “Shit. And then Doug left her for someone else.”

And then I said another woman’s name when she was in my bed. “Hell.”

“I saw Liv the day she found out her father had died. She was packing to go to the funeral in Chicago. I didn’t know about her dad, and I thought she was packing to leave permanently because of Doug. I tried to get her to calm down, telling her not to do anything drastic, and somehow, I told her what I’d done.”

“What did she do?”

“Just looked at me, with those big blue eyes. Like I’d stabbed her in the gut.”

Like she looked at me when I said “and.” He sighed. “I know the look.”

Barlow’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do to her?”

David was tempted to say it was none of his business. But I might need some help. God knew he wasn’t being too successful on his own. “She thinks I wanted someone else, but she doesn’t understand. I wouldn’t have hurt her for the world, but I did. Then I tried to fix it, and…”

“And you dug yourself in even deeper,” Micah finished. “Are you going after her?”

David’s gaze shot over to where she and Kane stood with the warehouse manager. “What, you mean right now?”

Barlow rolled his eyes. “No, not now. Are you going to make this right?”

“Yeah. I am.”

Barlow nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get back to work.”

They headed back to the warehouse. “This was no environmental arson, Micah. There was nothing in that warehouse worth burning, except for the guy without a face.”

“I know. Something’s connecting these two arsons. You’ve got a good eye. You ever think of going into investigation?” he asked.

David shook his head. “Took me a while to find firefighting, but now I can’t see myself doing any- thing else.”

“You like walking into fires,” Barlow said, a touch of envy in his voice.

David grinned. “It’s a rush like no other. At the same time, I do like a good puzzle. Olivia’s brother-in-law is an arson guy, too, back in Chicago. I like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Barlow slung his tool kit over one shoulder and pulled his camcorder from his coat pocket. “Then let’s see what our nonenvironmental arsonists left behind.”

Tuesday, September 21, 12:55 a.m.

Knock again,” Kane said when Mrs. Tomlinson didn’t answer the door.

Olivia raised her fist to knock again when the door opened, revealing a very tall, statuesque woman wearing a silk robe. Even without makeup, she was very beautiful and not at all what Olivia had expected a woman named Weezie to look like.

“Yes?” the woman asked.

“We’re looking for Mrs. Louise Tomlinson,” Olivia said.

“Well, I’m Louise, but not Mrs. Tomlinson for much longer,” she said.

“I’m Detective Sutherland and this is my partner, Detective Kane. We’re here to talk to you about your husband.”

Louise’s perfectly tweezed brows lifted. “What has he done now?”

“He’s dead, ma’am,” Olivia said. “He was murdered tonight.”

Quite unexpectedly, Louise Tomlinson’s haughty expression slid away. Growing pale, her mouth dropped open. “He’s dead? Barney’s dead? No.” Not waiting for an answer, she began to weep. She lowered her chin to her chest, hugged herself as she stood in the doorway and wept her heart out.

“Can we come in, ma’am?” Olivia asked.

Louise allowed herself to be led to a sofa in an ornately decorated living room, where she sank into the cushions, her face in her hands. “How did this happen?”

“He was shot while he was in his warehouse.”

Louise looked up, her eyes wild. “He didn’t kill himself, did he?”

“It doesn’t appear so, ma’am,” she answered. “Why?”

“He was so angry with me. Very upset. I’d had our assets frozen.”

“We heard that you two were going through a messy divorce,” Olivia said quietly.

“We were. He cheated on me.”

“That had to make you angry,” Kane said smoothly.

Louise’s wet eyes flashed. “Of course it did. We’d been married for almost thirty years. I wanted him alive to suffer, not dead. Am I a suspect?”

“Right now we’re just talking to people who knew your husband,” Olivia said. “But just so we can check you off our list, where were you tonight?”

“Here. Alone.”

“Was Mr. Tomlinson living here?”

“No. He had an apartment downtown near the university. Our son is a student there and lives in the dorm. Oh God, I have to tell him his father’s dead.”

Olivia put a gentle hand on the woman’s wrist. “We’d like to tell him.”

Louise turned stark white. “You think my son had something to do with this?”

“I think it would be best if you’d come with us, until we can get this all sorted out.” Olivia stood. “I’ll go up with you while you change your clothes.”

Tuesday, September 21, 2:35 a.m.

“Well?” Abbott asked.

Olivia stood at the window looking into Interview Two and shook her head. Louise Tomlinson sat at the table, numb. Her lawyer patted her hand from time to time.

“She was angry with her husband and she stands to benefit financially from his death and the fire,” Olivia said. “But unless she paid somebody to kill him, I don’t think she was involved. No gunshot residue on her hands. The neighbors we talked to didn’t see her leave her house. The engine of her car was cold. None of that is definitive innocence, but at this moment we can’t place her at the scene.”

“The son’s in Interview One,” Kane added. “He was at a party all night. At least fifty people saw him. No GSR on his hands either.”

“Then cut them loose,” Abbott said. “Find out who had cause to kill Tomlinson, besides his wife and son. Find out how they connect to the condo. See you at oh-eight.”

Olivia shot Abbott’s back a baleful look. “Why is it always oh-eight?”

“Go home, Liv,” Kane said kindly. “Get some sleep.”

“I will, after we talk to the Tomlinsons. I’m hoping if I talk sweetly enough, she’ll hand over the copy she made of her husband’s hard drive. Otherwise we have to go to the IT guy, and he’ll want a warrant.”

“You think you can sweet-talk her after hauling her ass downtown?” Kane asked.

Olivia raised a brow. “I got ten that says I can.”

Kane smiled sharply, sensing an easy win. “You’re on.”

Olivia took a minute, putting herself in the mind of the older woman. Her grief had been real, as had her rage. She’d been entitled to both. Unless of course she paid someone to do her dirty work for her, but if that was the case, they’d find a money trail.

“Mrs. Tomlinson,” Olivia said when she’d closed the door behind her.

Tomlinson’s lawyer jumped to his feet. “How long will you keep her here?”

“Not much longer,” Olivia said. “Your son is coming. I’d like to talk to you both.”

Louise glared. “I don’t want to talk to you. You treated me like a criminal.”

Olivia sat across from her. “No, ma’am. I was doing my job, as respectfully as I knew how. I’m so sorry that your husband is dead. I can’t pretend to know how you’re feeling right now, but I work homicide. My responsibility is to your husband. I have to find who killed him. I hope you and your son want the same thing.”

Louise swallowed, her lips thin. “You fingerprinted me. You fingerprinted my son.”