“Required reading for high schoolers,” Abbott said. “My daughter has to read it. Any scraps with a student’s name?”

“Not yet. We’re still sifting through rubble. We took soil samples around the path the arsonists took away from the condo. It’s strange. We found two sets of foot smudges coming out of the condo. The arson dog picked up the accelerant close to the fence where they escaped, but found evidence of only one pair of shoes.”

“One of them took off his shoes?” Olivia asked.

“Don’t know. That’s why we took the soil samples. We’re back to shoes again.”

Abbott’s mouth turned up. “Keep me updated. Noah?”

“No news on Camp Longfellow,” Noah said. “I contacted the state troopers to check the campsite, but it’s not staffed right now. I left voice mails all over. I’ll keep trying.”

“What about the background checks on the condo construction workers and Tomlinson’s employees?” Kane asked.

“No one common to both,” Noah said. “I tracked the girl Tomlinson was having the affair with. He had the deed for one of his properties transferred to her name, a house out in Woodview. The bank started foreclosure on the property last month.”

“When did Tomlinson transfer the deed?” Olivia asked.

Noah’s brows went up. “Last December.”

“The shoe queen rules,” Micki crowed. “Snow boots do not lie.”

Abbott’s grin was quick, but genuine. “You go, Mick. Noah, keep working on the camp. We need to know who that girl might have met at camp this summer.”

“Kenny, the sixteen-year-old at the school, definitely recognized her,” Olivia said. “We’re going back tonight to talk to him again.”

“Check Lincoln’s alibi first,” Abbott said, looking at Crawford who stood like a statue. “I want to either connect Lincoln or clear him. And I want that eyewitness to the condo fire.” He waved them out. “Tomorrow, here, oh-eight.”

Back at her desk, Olivia checked her cell phone, then frowned. “Val texted. She’s got another commitment. We have to get another interpreter. Dammit.”

Kane sighed. “I’ll call in the request on the way to Blue Moon.”

“This will set us back hours,” Olivia grumbled, straightening up her desk. Her fedora still covered her goddess statue’s face. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up her hat and placed it on her head. “Well?”

“Looks good.” He adjusted it on her head with a critical eye. “Very Ingrid Bergman.”

“She vanted to be alone, right?”

Kane sighed. “No, that was Garbo. Bergman still had Paris with Bogart. Someday you’re going to stop watching cartoons and start watching grown-up movies.”

“Not any time soon, old man.” The phone on her desk rang. “Sutherland.”

“It’s Ian. I have something down here you need to see.”

Tuesday, September 21, 5:25 p.m.

David’s mind was still spinning as he climbed the steps to his loft apartment. He was happy to see no reporters out front but suspected they’d be back. He wasn’t sure what it mattered anymore. He was happier to see his mother’s car parked out front.

He paused at the first landing, a sudden thought making his knees go momentarily weak. His mother. What if Lincoln had come here first? He exploded up the stairs but was stopped again by the voice of Mrs. Edwards, who stuck her head out from 2A.

“Thank you, David. They delivered the refrigerator this morning. We appreciate it.”

“Are the girls all right?” Lincoln had talked to one of the girls in 2A and David hadn’t checked to be sure everyone was all right. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Lacey and Tiffany? Why wouldn’t they be all right?”

“I’ll explain later.” He charged up the stairs, unlocking his door and shoving it open in one motion. Then he stopped once more, stunned.

Glenn and his mother stood close together. His mother held her hair off her neck as Glenn fumbled with her necklace. They twisted toward the door like guilty teenagers.

Glenn’s face was the color of a ripe tomato. “She’s going out to dinner. Asked me to help with this confounded thing.” But he hadn’t moved, his fingers still clutching his mother’s necklace. And if David wasn’t mistaken, the expression he’d worn when David barged in had been uncharacteristically tender.

Hell. Glenn was falling for his mom.

“I can do it.” David managed the clasp and stepped away. “You look nice, Ma.”

“Thank you. Glenn stopped by to make sure I heard the latest news.” She gave him a pointed look. “Before it hit the news. I hear you had another eventful day.”

David grimaced. “I’m sorry. What did you two hear?”

Glenn glared. “That somebody broke into my cabin. Were you going to tell me?”

“Of course I was. I should have called you both. I’m sorry, okay? Who called you?”

“The local sheriff’s office. Told me not to worry, that you had it all under control. That you’d taken the gun away from the guy. And I said, ‘What guy? What gun? What the hell?’” He looked at David’s mother. “Excuse me, Phoebe.”

She nodded. “No problem. I said the same thing. So what the hell, David?”

David sank into his easy chair and pulled his hands over his face. “It’s like this…” He told them the story, watching his mother’s face. She was scared, but handling it. Glenn, on the other hand, grew angrier with each word. “And that’s all of it,” David finished.

“Where is this Lincoln Jefferson now?” Glenn asked, very carefully.

“In the psych ward at the jail. He’ll be charged with B and E on your property and assault on me. The Feds will have their go at him for the arsons twelve years ago. Olivia and her partner were going to validate his alibi tonight for the latest fires.”

“And he never gave up Moss?”

“No. I don’t think he knows where Moss is.”

“Let me get this straight,” Glenn said acidly. “He heard about the glass ball on TV, so he asked firefighters who caught it and, not suspecting he was a fucking lunatic, they told him it was you. He made it out here in time to hear me tell the reporters that you didn’t live here. Then he talks to one of the girls in 2A and they tell him about my cabin. He gets the address for my unlisted property, breaks in and searches the place. And all before two o’clock. I’d say we have a damn smart schizo.”

David pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think through the headache that had started to pound. “He’s been under psychiatric care for more than ten years, Glenn. He is schizo.” Always there. Always there. David fought a shiver. “But you make a good point. That’s a pretty organized line of logic for a man with a mental illness.”

Glenn folded his arms over his chest. “Did he have help?”

“I guess it’s possible. Maybe even probable.”

His mother sat on the arm of his easy chair and patted David’s shoulder. “You’re okay, and that’s the important thing. I’m glad you can take care of yourself.”

“No, the important thing is that someone else might have helped this vile piece of murdering shit,” Glenn said and his eyes narrowed. “Who you seem to pity, David.”

“No.” David shook his head in denial. “Okay, yes, I felt pity, but not like you think.”

“Then explain it to me,” Glenn growled.

“Glenn,” his mother said, rebuke in her tone.

“Phoebe,” Glenn shot back. “This so-called schizo could have come up here. You would have been here, not your black-belt son who can defend himself. That guy had a goddamn gun and he would have gone after you. Did you even think about that, David?”

Glenn stood, fists clenched, chest heaving from his outburst. Wordlessly David rose from his chair and motioned Glenn to sit, but Glenn shook his head hard.

“What kind of pity did you feel?” Glenn asked, more quietly, but no less intensely.

“How many bodies have you seen? How long have they haunted you?”

“Too many and too long,” Glenn answered levelly. “But I didn’t kill them.”

“Exactly. He killed her and he didn’t even have his full sanity to get him through it. Should he be held accountable? Hell, yes. But he is not the man he was. Twelve years ago he was an undiagnosed schizophrenic, vulnerable, looking for something. Now, he’s pathetic. I didn’t want to feel anything for him, but I did. Maybe that makes me weak, I don’t know, but I did feel.” He was inches from Glenn’s face and backed away, drawing a breath. “I’m not necessarily proud of that, but there it is.”