Silent Scream

  “This time they brought their own fuel,” Barlow added. “They found gas cans.”

  “Pour patterns were similar to the ones we saw in the condo,” David said. “They spread the gas on the floor in a line, then dumped what was left into a puddle. Looks like they came from the east and west sides of the warehouse and met in the middle.”

  “And the ball?” Olivia asked and he met her eyes, his unreadable.

  “Propping open a side door, just like you thought they’d done in the condo. The ball is covered in gel. I got a picture of it. Look where the ball touches the floor.” He handed her his camera and Olivia turned it so both she and Kane could see the view screen.

  “What am I looking at?” she asked and David looked over her shoulder, his chin almost touching her ear. Her lungs stopped working as he pointed at the screen.

  “There. Piece of a fuse. They used the ball to hold one end of the fuse in place.”

  David moved back, and Olivia breathed again. “When can we go in?” she asked.

  “An hour or two,” Barlow said, “when it’s cooled. I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks,” Olivia said, then gave Barlow a small smile. “Thanks for calling Brie’s dad. He’ll take good care of Bruno, and that’ll make Mr. Hart more cooperative.”

  Barlow nodded. “Hart’s got an alibi?”

  “Yes, but we’ll check him out. First stop is the widow. She had motive to kill Tomlinson and to burn the place down. Supposedly she copied her husband’s files, so we’ll see if we can get customer and employee lists from her.” She turned to the firefighters. “Thanks for the information. We’ll be in touch.”

  She walked away without a word to David Hunter, feeling him watch her back. Kane matched her stride, checking over his shoulder.

  “He’s watching you, Liv.”

  “He’d better stop,” she said through her teeth, then made herself chill. “I’ve been thinking. What if Barlow was right yesterday morning, that this has nothing to do with the SPOT environmental group?”

  “That the glass ball is just a smoke screen?” Kane asked.

  “Yeah. What if somebody really wanted to kill a person they hated and set the first fire to establish a false pattern? That killing Tomlinson was their plan all along?”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Sounds like Tomlinson’s wife really hated him.”

  “Let’s find out how much.”

  Sloan and Cunkle went back to their duties, leaving Barlow standing next to David. For a moment neither of them said anything, then Barlow said, “Ouch.”

  “What?” David muttered. “She was nice to you.”

  “For the first time in a couple years, but I wasn’t talking about me.”

  David hesitated, then shrugged. “Who was Doug?”

  Barlow shot him a surprised look. “My friend, then and now. Used to be engaged to Liv. I introduced them, actually.”

  “He left her.”

  Barlow sighed. “He did. And I helped, which is why I’m persona non grata.”

  David thought of Paige’s words. He was in it, too. “How did you help?”

  “Doug had a fiancée long before Liv. They’d been college sweethearts, then she left him. He never got over her, but he met Liv and I thought they had a shot together. Time passed, they got engaged. They set a date. I was going to be the best man. Everything was fine. Then, a couple weeks before the ceremony, Doug’s old fiancée showed up. She begged Doug to take her back.”

  “And he did?”

  “Not right away. He came to me, asking for advice, and unfortunately I got involved. One of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.”

  David frowned. “You told him to dump Olivia?”

  “No,” Barlow said forcefully. “I just told him to imagine himself at eighty and see who he thought he’d be happiest with. He went off for a few days, thought it through, then chose Angela. Olivia was”—he sighed—“a lot more crushed than I ever thought a woman could be.”

  I don’t play second-string. “How did she find out what you’d done?”

  “That would have been me telling her, another stupid thing I did. See, a week after Doug left her, her father died. He was a cop, too, apparently. In Chicago.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m friends with Olivia’s half sister Mia. They share a father.” David’s shoulders sagged. Now the second-string statement made even more sense.

  “You knew Liv’s father?”

  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.”

  Chapter Eleven

  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.”

  “So we could tell your prints from anyone else’s in his office or his apartment. It’s standard procedure. Again, I’m sorry this had to happen tonight, but every hour that passes is an hour his killer goes free.”

  Still pale, Louise closed her eyes. “Someone shot him.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It looks like he was at his desk, working. He was shot from behind.”

  Louise flinched, then snapped her gaze to the door when her son entered. He looked even angrier than his mother had. He folded his mother in his arms and she began to cry again. Seth Tomlinson glared at Olivia. “How dare you?”

  “Please,” Olivia said. “Please sit down.”

  Still furious, Seth did, taking his mother’s hand protectively. “It’s bad enough we have to go through this.”

  “You’re right,” Olivia said and Seth narrowed his eyes.

  “You’re the good cop. Where’s the bad cop?”

  Olivia returned his furious gaze with a sympathetic one. “Right here in this chair. I can be either or both, depending on who’s sitting in your chair. I need your help.”

  “No,” Seth said. “I’m not helping you.”

  “You’re entitled to your anger and your frustration. Right now, I need you to be angry at the person who put a bullet in the back of your father’s head. The fire destroyed a lot of the things we’d normally look for—signs of a struggle, for example. Signs that someone forced their way into his office. Did he know his killer? Or was he simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did he keep money in his office?”

  Louise shook her head. “No. None of our sales transactions were cash. All of our customers paid by check or bank transfer. Anything Barney had in the office was strictly for personal use, and he was running short. I’d made sure of that.”

  “Mom,” Seth said in a low voice, but she patted his arm.

  “She’s doing her job, Seth. I imagine she’ll look at my finances to be sure I didn’t hire a hit man.” Louise looked Olivia dead in the eye. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t know how.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Olivia said. “You still loved him.”

  “Yes. He hurt me, so badly. But I never could have taken his life.”

  “Who could have?”

  Louise looked lost. “I don’t know. You’d need to talk to Lloyd Hart, our manager. He knew all the customers.”

  “I did talk to him, for just a little while. He was pretty worried about his dog.”

  “Bruno,” Louise murmured. “Did they hurt the dog, too?”

  “Drugged him. There’s a chance he’ll make it. Mr. Hart said that the employees didn’t care for your husband.”

  “That’s not true,” Seth bit out, but once again his mother patted his hand.

  “Yes, it is.” She turned to Olivia. “It wasn’t always like that. Barney used to know everyone’s name. He made sure everyone had benefits, pensions. As he got more successful, he changed. We had warehouses in three states and he started to travel. Buy fancy cars.” She lifted her chin. “Fancy women, too, even though I didn’t know it then. He wasn’t the man I married anymore. Then business started to go down and Barney got scared. And mean. We were fighting all the time.”

  “No, you weren’t,” Seth protested. “Mom.”

  “We didn’t fight in front of
you. We didn’t want you to know.” She turned to Olivia. “I hadn’t paid attention to the business in a long time. When I found out about Barney’s affair, I made copies of all his files. I wanted my lawyer to have as much ammunition as possible.”

  “Do you still have the copied files?” Olivia asked.

  “On a couple of CDs, yes.”

  “The fire destroyed so much. We could get started so much faster if we knew who to investigate.”

  Louise looked at her attorney who gave a little shrug. “It’s up to you, Weez. I’ve seen the files. There isn’t anything on them that you haven’t already told them.”

  “They’re in my fire box at home.” Louise’s lips twisted. “Ironic, no?”

  Olivia sighed. “We get a lot of sad irony in this business. I know you’re tired, but a few more questions, please. How did you find out about your husband’s infidelity?”

  “I hired a private investigator. One of my friends had gone through something similar, so I met her for lunch and somehow found the courage to ask for the name of her PI, and I hired her. She had incriminating photos in less than a week. I was devastated.” She swallowed hard. “I went into Barney’s office the next day when I knew he’d be out playing golf and copied the files. Then I filed for divorce that afternoon.”

  Seth was studying his mother’s worn profile. “Can we go now? She’s helped you.”

  “Yes, she has and yes, you can go. Mrs. Tomlinson, thank you. I’ll personally keep you updated on the investigation. Can I take you home?”

  “I’ll take care of them,” the lawyer said. “You’ll want those CDs tonight, I take it?”

  Olivia flicked a glance at the clock on the wall. It was almost three a.m. Surely the warehouse had cooled enough for her and Kane to see Barney in his office now. “That would be ideal. My partner and I will follow you home.” Then she and Kane could double back to the crime scene.

  Olivia found Kane in the observation room, a ten-dollar bill in his hand. “Nice.”

  “Keep it. She was going to help us all along. You ready to roll?”

  “Yep. I’ll drive. You can nap on the way.”