“Speculation which we can’t prove,” JoJo said.
“Who was the guardian?” I asked.
Tandy said, “The estate lawyer, who hired nannies and sent the boys to military and boarding schools.”
“And where’s he?” I asked.
Tandy said, “Deceased. Natural causes at age eighty-nine.”
I rubbed my arms. I had been burned. And now that we knew what to look for, pyrokinesis was everywhere, fitting T. Laine’s human mutation theory. I said, “So we think that the Tolliver family has a dominant pyro gene? Justin’s pillow smelled human, right? His wife, Sonya, who wears too much perfume, didn’t smell human?” I worked it through my mind. “Sonya and Clarisse Tolliverbothwear—wore—too much perfume; the men wear none. It’s unlikely that the Tollivers are both scentless nonhumans and married smelly nonhumans of a different species.”
“Not so unlikely,” Jo said, “if the trait began prior to the dead great-grandparents. But then we’ve got problems tracking it down. Forensic arson investigations were pretty much nonexistent prior to 1950 and records were never computerized or even independently preserved to microfiche. And we don’t have time to search through every single local newspaper on microfiche about fires going back for decades, for every small town in a hundred square miles.”
I nodded agreement. I had done microfiche research. It was tedious and boring and very time-consuming when going through old papers for one county. The idea of searching through newspapers for two states and a hundred years was daunting.
Soul said, “The assassin had an ‘other-than-human’ scent. We’re pretty sure Devin did too, though beneath the smell of the car fire it was impossible to tell. The fact that he threw fire is proof enough. We’ll know more when the cats are back in human form and can tell us whattheysmelled. For now,speculation is running us in circles.” She shook her head and twisted her hair. “This feels incomplete. We need more.”
I looked up to see Occam standing in the hallway staring at me, his eyes glowing golden, his cat too close to the surface. He looked disheveled and predatory and tightly wound, like a cat tensed to strike. I gave him a slight smile to show I was okay. His shoulders dropped, relaxing slightly, and he nodded, his hair swinging almost to his shoulders, longer after his shift. He was dressed in sweat pants and a tight T-shirt, his feet bare.
Rick stepped around him, into the doorway, and leaned against the frame, black hair and beard shaggy and scruffy, but he looked vital and more healthy than hours past. Except for the silvering hair, each shift seemed to heal him more. “Devin is not human,” he said. “He smelled... I don’t know. Watery? Like algae in a pond?”
Occam pushed him aside and entered the room, pouring them both a cup of coffee. “More like a rock that’s still wet from river water. Oddly mineral, fishy, wet, and very different from lizard or snake, otter or weasel family. I don’t know what he is, but he doesn’t smell exactly like his fatherorhis mother.”
“So are we now thinking that we’re either in the middle of an intra- or interspecies conflict or a cross species mating?” I asked.
“The scents are confusing,” Rick agreed.
“Speculation,” Soul said, looking oddly introspective and still worried.
“Feud,” Occam said. “It feels like a feud. A paranormal-versus-paranormal mini-war, either familial or a clan-versus-clan confrontation, like between vamp clans or between were-creature species. The scents might mean nothing. Or everything.” Occam sipped, thinking, and I could see everyone nodding, putting pieces of the case puzzle together. “Like werelions against wereleopards or wolves against hyena. Vaguely similar paranormal species fighting over territory,” he finished.
“Inside the family? Family on family?” I asked. “Miriam went missing. Maybe she’s back?” That sort of thing didn’t happen in the church. The patriarch’s word was law and noone fought against it. And then I realized, it had happened. And it had started with me, which made me uncomfortable in ways I couldn’t explain to myself, so I shoved it into the back of my mind for later consideration. But family against family, that was very common in the church. I just hadn’t thought about things like that happening in the townie world.
“You’ve done well narrowing it down,” Soul said. “Has anyone had sleep in the last sixteen hours? No? Then Unit Eighteen is now officially off duty. I want everyone to bed. I’ve kept the feds updated and will update them again in an hour or so. They can carry the ball for the next twelve. I’ll monitor everything from here and see you all back here at six p.m., well rested and feeling lively. Dismissed.”
It wasn’t a request. I checked the time and found it was after six in the morning. I had no idea where all the hours had gone, but I was expected at Pete’s Coffee Shop. To have breakfast with Benjamin Aden.
I stood, ignoring Occam, who stared at me as I slipped past him in the doorway. I got my bags and took the stairs to the outside. To discover that I didn’t have my truck. “Well, dang,” I said.
“Need a ride?”
My boots crunched on the sleet as I turned to see T. Laine. All I could think was,Thank God it isn’t Occam. “Is Pete’s Coffee Shop, downtown on Union, out of your way?” I asked.
“Totally, but I’m driving. I want to see this paragon of manliness and restraint that has Occam’s panties in a twist.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Get in.” Lainie popped the locks and we climbed in. She glanced at me and away as she started her car. “Occam told me about your truck not being here. Sent me to drive you. Boy’s got it bad.” I didn’t know how to reply to that. We drove off into the dawn, with the storm clouds blowing away and a golden sun climbing into the sky.
TWELVE
Amazingly, T. Laine found a parking spot on the street and pulled in. I looked at her from the corner of my eye. “You are not joining us for breakfast.”
“Of course I’m not. I’ll be at the bar. Getting food. Minding my own business.” She slipped into the morning light and shut the car door. I realized that there was no way to stop her. That I had no car to get home. That I had no cash for an Uber. And that my option was for Ben to drive me to my house. I hadn’t thought this through. I blew out a breath and followed T. Laine into the building, which looked a lot like an old-fashioned diner.
Muttering as I passed by her seat at the long stainless bar, I said, “You turn him into a toad and I’ll be really mad.”
Lainie snorted and accepted a cup of coffee from the bar waiter.
