Flashback by Justine Davis (reading e books .TXT) 📗

but she had to admit the mechanics of it fit—the sudden commencement of the withdrawals, a set amount, cash only, all those factors supported the idea. They fit other scenarios, as well, but she couldn’t deny this possibility, not with those indicators.

“But,” Eric added, “we couldn’t find anything else to indicate that was what was happening. No phone calls from unknown numbers, no late-night excursions to deliver money, nothing.”

“So that idea didn’t fly.”

“No. But we never did find out what the real reason was.”

“Which is why it bugs you to this day,” Alex speculated.

Eric’s mouth curled up wryly. “I don’t like loose ends.”

“Neither do I,” Alex said, and made a mental note to pass on this bit of discovery to Allison the next time she spoke to her. If her mother had been being blackmailed, she’d want to know.

If she didn’t know already, Alex thought. Not much got by Allison. Ever.

Alex knew she needed to tread carefully on this next topic. “Did anyone, after the murder, go back to the previous incidents Marion reported?”

“You mean the fire, and the thing with her car?”

She supposed the fact that he knew what she meant answered her question. “Yes.”

“I did. Fire was arson, but there was a string of them in that neighborhood that summer. No reason to think hers was targeted.”

“Nothing different about it?”

“Other than it was her house, no. Same M.O., same accelerant, even the same location on the house.”

“Were there any more after hers?”

He blinked. Thought. “No,” he finally said. “Not that I remember. They just…stopped.”

Because she’d been the intended target all along, the others just camouflage? Alex wondered.

She saw by the look on his face that he was thinking the same thing.

“What about the car?” she asked.

“Nothing that could prove intent,” he said. “The lines were intact. Reservoir was at the right level. There were no unaccounted-for prints on the car or the power-steering fluid cap. Nothing to indicate someone put anything in or tampered with the system.”

“So if someone did—” she began.

“They were very, very good,” he finished.

So he was taking this seriously, she thought. Enough to admit the possibilities that might have been missed.

“How would you do it, if you didn’t want to get caught?” she asked him.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe inject the contaminant with a syringe, into the reservoir. You wouldn’t even have to touch anything, could do it above the fill line, so that it would never leak and get noticed. And a tiny needle hole near the cap could easily get overlooked or written off as normal wear or a defect.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“They didn’t want to listen to me about those things, either,” Eric said. “Thought I was talking like some conspiracy whack-nut.”

“When this is over,” Alex said, “I’ll make sure that they all know they should have listened.”

He smiled at that. Then, after a moment he asked, “So, if this isn’t an official inquiry, are you on vacation?”

“I’m on my own time, yes.”

Not taking any time off for years was finally paying off, she thought. She had a ton of time on the books, and it had come in handy during the investigation of Rainy’s case, and it was beginning to look as if that pattern would repeat now. Cold cases, she was quickly learning, did not come together quickly.

“Boyfriend doesn’t mind?”

“He’s FBI, too,” she said, although it still seemed odd to her to refer to Justin that way. Not, however, as odd as it once had. Was she getting used to it? Or simply more convinced it was true? “He understands.”

“Oh.”

He looked oddly deflated, and only then did Alex realize that he might have been asking in the hopes of learning whether she was involved or not. And only then did she realize her response had felt utterly natural. So on some level her mind was already moving ahead in that arena.

“Figures,” Eric said with a good-natured show of exaggerated glumness. “Not only is there a boyfriend, but he’s armed.”

She laughed. “Why, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Your day better improve, then,” he joked.

“I can’t believe some lucky girl doesn’t have you all wrapped up,” she said, meaning it.

“Not likely.” The glumness was a bit more real this time.

“Why not? You’re cute, funny, charming and a darn good cop.”

She’d succeeded in thoroughly embarrassing him this time. He stumbled for a moment, then seized on what she guessed felt safest.

“How do you know I’m a good cop?”

“I’ve read through all your notes,” she reminded him. “If that’s how thorough and perceptive you were back then with no experience, you’ve probably only gotten better since.”

He was red-faced now. “Geez. You need another favor or what?”

She laughed and cut him some slack. “Oh, probably, eventually. But it’s still true.”

“Thanks.” Clearly still embarrassed, he quickly changed the subject, gesturing at the file she’d now closed. “So, what do you think?”

“I’m still processing it all,” she said truthfully. “There’s a lot there, as you know better than anyone. So let me ask you something. Since you’ve had all this percolating in the back of your mind for years, now…what’s your best theory?”

“Not a burglar,” he said. “There was more to it than that.”

Gratified to hear him echo her own feelings, she prompted him to go on. “What makes you think so?”

“The attack was too…organized. Methodical. She didn’t stumble on somebody who reacted out of fear or desperation to get away.”

“You think it was planned?”

He hesitated, then said, “I think—and I don’t have a damn thing to prove it—that he was waiting for her. Not just anyone. Her.”

Alex let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware of holding. So he’d seen what she’d seen. He hadn’t even had the benefit of Marion’s letter and he’d seen it.

“I agree,” she said softly.

Chapter 8

The lying-in-wait theory had taken up residence in Alex’s mind with her first look at the diagram and photos of the crime scene. She knew that room at Athena so well, she knew