“Or like affairs,” Barlow said. “Tomlinson had photos of him with his mistress on his desk when he died. That was his blackmail.”
“Oh,” Olivia said, a piece of the puzzle connecting. “The pictures of Tomlinson. The blackmailer found out about his affair and took those pictures a long time ago.”
Micki’s smile was sharp. “Last winter, when the mistress wore snow boots.”
Olivia nodded. “Louise had the ‘before’ pictures. I bet the blackmailer sent them to her because Tomlinson didn’t pay. She then hired the private detective who took the ‘after’ pictures. Louise mixed them all together to give to her divorce attorney. The hit was exactly what you said, Barlow. An execution. Payback.”
“So where did he cross paths with Eric, Tomlinson, and Blunt?” Abbott asked.
“I’ll have another look at Tomlinson’s financials,” Barlow said, “cross-referencing them to Dorian’s and Eric’s. Maybe they spent money at, or visited, the same place.”
“That helps us with the blackmailer,” Olivia said. Who killed Kane. She wanted to focus on him, find him. Gut him like he deserved. But she could see the harrowed terror in David’s eyes. “What about Mary? If Phoebe’s still alive, Mary’s probably keeping her for leverage. But we’re no closer to knowing where.”
Noah pulled Mary’s personal data sheet close and went through it once again. “There’s one old address that came up on her background check, but the uniforms we sent to check it said no one knew her. She might have lived there years ago, but not recently and there was no sign of Phoebe’s car in the neighborhood.”
Olivia frowned, belatedly realizing something didn’t fit. “Wait. Her father’s not dead. Her roommate said she had a dad and a brother who’s a doctor.”
“Go back and talk to the roommate again,” Abbott said.
Olivia gathered the Mary pages. “What about Lincoln? They’re friends or have some relationship. Maybe Lincoln would know where she’d go.”
“Donahue said she’d call when he was interviewable,” Abbott said.
“I know,” Olivia said. “But Truman said the Feds searched his house last night. I bet they have files, a laptop, something that tells us how Mary found Lincoln to begin with.”
Abbott’s expression darkened. “Lincoln’s still ours on the B and E and assault.”
“Tell that to Special Agent Crawford,” Noah said, “because that’s who Truman claims did the search.”
Abbott’s jaw cocked. “I will. Micki, trace Eric’s money. Barlow, check for places Eric, Tomlinson, and Blunt intercepted. Keep me informed and nobody take off their vest.”
Wednesday, September 22, 4:05 p.m.
David put his tray on the table Tom had staked at the Deli. “Busy today.”
Tom glanced up from his laptop. “I know. Students are talking about the dead guy found in the dorm, the cops are talking about Kane, and the firefighters are either talking about your partner or… you.”
“Wonderful.” David sat and slid Tom’s sandwich across the table. “Eat.”
Tom frowned at the food, then at David’s lack of it. “Where’s yours?”
“Can’t.”
Tom pushed the plate to the middle of the table. “Neither can I. Eat half.”
He managed to choke down a few bites, watching as Tom plugged his wireless card into his laptop’s slot. “I’m still not sure I get the allure of this place,” David said. “Food’s only okay.”
“It’s better than the dining hall. But most people come here to socialize.” He pointed at all the customers on their laptops. “And because Kirby has free Wi-Fi.”
David looked up at the counter. “Which one’s Kirby?”
“The manager. Not up there right now. He’s the one who chats and says ‘buh-bye.’”
“Oh. Him.”
Tom looked up. “Kirby bothers you?”
David fought the urge to squirm. “He’s just… intense.”
Tom shrugged. “I think the flirtation is an act. He’s not a bad guy. He helped Eve seven months ago when that so-called reporter was following her. Made sure she knew the reporter had been talking to that professor’s secretary, stalking her and her friend.”
David remembered it. “That information helped save Eve’s life so I guess he can make eyes at me. Plus, he always sends coffee to the fire scenes if we’ve been there all night.” Still, there was something about the man that made him uncomfortable.
Tom nodded. “There, I’m in.”
David eyed the card sticking out of Tom’s laptop. “If they have free wireless here, why use your card?”
Tom’s eyes widened in dismay. “Tell me you don’t use free, unsecured Wi-Fi?”
David nodded warily. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just askin’ to be hacked,” Tom muttered. “This card is secure. Nobody can touch my hard drive.” He slid his chair around the table so David could see the screen. “I also put a coating over my screen so you have to be right in front of it to see anything.”
“Trusting soul, aren’t you?” David asked.
“No.” Tom typed Mary’s name and a screen full of links appeared. The first two pages were references to the two dead college students. There were three, David knew, but the police hadn’t released the connection to Joel Fischer yet.
Tom kept paging and frowned. “I get nothing on the name. What else you got?”
“Ethan gave me her social.” David turned the laptop toward him and typed it in from memory.
“I would have started with that,” Tom grumbled. “Results-twenty-three, single. No dependents. No out- standing student loans. One savings, one checking account.”
“That’s the other address Ethan gave me.” David pointed to the screen. “The police checked already. She doesn’t live there and the current residents don’t know her. Can you check who were the previous residents?”
Tom entered the address into a property tax Web site. “Current owners have been there for three years. The previous owner used this as a rental property. Previous owner is Mrs. Annie Walsh, who is still alive and local.”
David was already on his feet. “Let’s go.”
Wednesday, September 22, 4:35 p.m.
Olivia and Noah got out of their car and approached the abandoned green Taurus. They’d been en route to the university to reinterview Mary’s roommate when they’d gotten the call that Phoebe’s car had been sighted on a remote road.
The officer who’d called it in pointed to a man who stood soberly watching them. “He lives a half-mile from here, heard about the victim on the radio.”
“We’ll talk to him in a second, thanks.” Olivia walked around the car, afraid of what she’d see. “No blood. Unlocked.” Her stomach clenched, she popped the trunk. Then sagged in relief when she saw it was empty. “I had a bad picture in my mind.”
“So did I,” Noah said unsteadily.
Olivia walked the shoulder ahead of Phoebe’s car, stopping when a flash of silver caught her eye. With a pen, she dug the chain from the dirt and held it up so the medallion swung. “Noah. It’s a St. Jude medallion. Do you know if Phoebe wore one?”
“I think so. Eve has one just like it.”
She dropped it in a baggie and carefully tucked it in her pocket. For David. Just in case. But she wouldn’t let herself think that way. For David.
“Tire treads,” Olivia noted. “There was another car here.” They crossed the road and introduced themselves to the man who waited. “When did you notice the green car?”
“About a half hour ago. I was coming back from an appointment in town. It wasn’t here on my way in, but another car was. That was two hours ago.”
“Which car was here, sir?” Noah asked.
“A black Lexus.” He rattled off the license plate. “I was going to give them a day to move it before I had it towed. I first noticed it today. It wasn’t there as of ten last night.”