That the bomb threat related back to him, he had no doubt. Were they trying to kill him to keep him from talking? Were they trying to keep Kenny from talking?

A man identified as Captain Bruce Abbott came on the screen, a sign language interpreter at his side. Call us, Austin. You are in danger. We’ll keep you safe.

He dropped his eyes to the cell phone in his hand. Kenny had sent another text. Don’t trust the cops. Call me. I can hide you.

Austin knew one way to separate the truth from the lies. He opened the latest from Kenny’s new account. Here in TC. Scared. Where can I meet u?

He hit SEND before he could change his mind. Then started walking. He didn’t want to stay in one place, didn’t want to draw attention. Keep walking.

Wednesday, September 22, 11:15 a.m.

He’d had to exert a great deal of discipline this morning not to obsess over the silence of Austin Dent. Austin was still top of the news, so the police hadn’t found him yet. He’d sent one more text from Kenny’s “new” account. He hadn’t wanted to lay it on too thickly, but for God’s sake, where was the damn kid?

There had been heavy traffic all morning due to Detective Kane. Cops gathered here to soberly talk, to mourn. To wonder how it could have happened. Such a good cop. Such a nice guy. About ready to retire. Not fair.

Well, life isn’t fair. So get over it. He’d taken the next order when the cell phone in his pocket buzzed.

Austin. Finally. “Hey, Buster, I need to take a break. Can you handle things?”

“Sure,” Buster said, not looking up from the latte he was mixing.

The men’s room was empty. He checked his cell phone and smiled. Austin was back, in the Twin Cities. Very good.

Need to meet U, he typed. You’re in danger.

When? Where?

He was supposed to be Kenny, who was supposed to be at school, twenty minutes from downtown. 12:30, he typed. Will sneak away at lunch.

McD’s by school?

He frowned then. The McDonald’s was across from the sub shop, where he’d grabbed the interpreter. Too many cops looking for you. Library parking lot.

Okay.

Hide till then. Cops looking for you. They lie. Don’t trust them.

That should take care of Austin Dent until he could take care of him in person.

Wednesday, September 22, 11:20 a.m.

“Not home,” Olivia muttered, standing on Eric Marsh’s welcome mat.

“We could try for a warrant,” Noah said and she shook her head.

“Brian Ramsey couldn’t get me one last night for Joel and that was with proof he’d been in a fire. We’re not getting a warrant. Not unless we find something else.”

The apartment door to the left opened and a grumpy-looking old man stared out. “He’s probably at school. Some kind of engineering major. Whaddya want with him?”

“We want to talk to him,” Olivia said. “I’m Detective Sutherland and this is Detective… Webster.” She’d almost said Kane. “And you are?”

“Jed Early.” Early glared. “Comings and goings and goings-on. Give a kid that age an apartment and you’re just asking for trouble.”

“Who’s been coming and going?” Olivia asked.

“Kids. Mostly that Frenchie. Albert,” he sneered. “I guess they’re free to do what they want in their own place, but I should be free not to have to listen to it.”

“So Eric and Albert were…” Olivia said and Early nodded sourly.

“Every night. All night. God.” He shuddered. “Made me wish I needed hearing aids.”

“You mentioned kids, more than one,” Noah said. “Who else?”

“Another boy and a girl.”

Olivia’s ears pricked. “You get any names?”

He frowned. “I don’t snoop.”

“But you’ve got good hearing,” Olivia responded cagily and he grinned.

“I do indeed. Mary and Joel. No last names, though. I think they were studying together. Always had their laptops. Sometimes Joel brought big charts, rolled up.”

Of course you don’t snoop, Olivia thought. “When did you last see Eric?”

“Yesterday, carrying a box. I didn’t see him after that. I had to go to the doctor.”

“When did you come back from the doctor?” Noah asked.

“I got back after two, and I haven’t seen them since. But something was going on over there. They were all arguing early Monday morning. Woke me up.”

The hairs rose on the back of Olivia’s neck. “What time, sir?”

“About one, two. My eyes aren’t so good and I couldn’t see the clock. Sorry.”

“No, you’ve been very helpful,” Olivia said. “Will you be around later?”

He nodded. “They did something pretty bad, didn’t they? I mean, I recognize you now. You worked the case of all those murders in that pit. You’re a homicide cop.”

“I am. Right now, we don’t know what they have or haven’t done. But thank you.” She waited until they were back in Noah’s car to talk. “I think we can get a warrant now.”

“You call the ADA. I’m going to call the airports and make sure Eric doesn’t slip away. The Fischers said he had money. He could be a flight risk.”

They each made their calls and Olivia was relaying all the details to ADA Brian Ramsey when Noah waved at her to wait.

“Tell him that Eric Marsh bought a ticket yesterday morning-one way to Paris. It took off at five-thirty yesterday afternoon, but he never showed.”

“I heard,” Brian said. “I’ll have the warrant in thirty.”

Olivia hung up. “Let’s do a halftime check. We’ve got Joel who was at the fire. Lovers with Mary and friends with Eric, who is lovers with Albert.”

“Maybe they all did it together. Didn’t Micki say there were at least three?”

“She did. But how do Joel and pals connect to Tomlinson and this Dorian Blunt?”

“And which of them did Austin Dent see shoot Weems and then get in a boat at the dock on Sunday night?”

“And how does Tomlinson’s wife factor in?” Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Why lie to us?”

“And why the glass balls? Why only two? Why not leave one at last night’s fire?”

“Something tells me that once we find Eric, Mary, and Albert, we’ll get answers. Let’s get a key from the super and wait by Eric’s door. I don’t want him slipping by us.”

Wednesday, September 22, 12:00 p.m.

Insisting he not drive, Glenn and his mother had met him at the firehouse. His mom had driven him back to the apartment, Glenn following behind in David’s truck. His mother was making a pot of soup, which David knew would cure anything that ailed him. It always had. Or maybe it was just having her fuss over him. Both worked.

Now he and Glenn sat in the Gorski sisters’ garden, David on the phone with Ethan while Glenn looked on, chomping at the bit.

“Well?” Glenn asked when David hung up the phone.

“That man is scarily efficient,” David said. “Ethan says the domain registration for Lincoln’s Web site was paid for by a Mary Francesca O’Reilly, aged twenty-three.”

“Did Mr. Efficient get an address for Ms. O’Reilly?”

“PO box on the card, but her social security number brings up several addresses. Most recent is a dorm at the university.”

“Where that kid Joel Fischer went,” Glenn said thoughtfully.

“Where thousands of kids go. Doesn’t mean she knew Joel. Doesn’t mean she was at the fire. But it does mean she had some contact with Lincoln Jefferson. She couldn’t just go in and pay his bill without his user name and password.”

“Unless she had somebody like Ethan helping her. Or she is somebody like Ethan.”

“Ethan’s a white hat,” David murmured, then smiled when Glenn laughed. “That’s what they call them. Guys who use their hacking skills for good and not evil. I’m thinking Mary isn’t a white hat. Plus, she paid with her own credit card. How covert is that?”

“You’re probably right. Still, I’m thinking your pretty detective needs to know this.”

“I’m thinking the same thing. She’s not gonna be happy about the way I found it.”