“Looks like she hasn’t lost her touch at least.”
“You’re not wrong and I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it.” Clearing his throat, he motions toward the boxes. “Is there anything else you need tonight? I have to check in with the team and see where we’re at.”
“No, of course. I’m great. I’ll probably head up and do a little work too.”
“All right, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Tom.”
“Good night, Miss Harrington.”
17
TOM
“What do you mean you can’t figure out how they got the address to the rental she was staying in?” I ask in disbelief as Royce shakes his head on the screen. It’s almost midnight but that’s what happens when you’re in the middle of an investigation with more questions than answers.
“I’m working on it,” my nephew says, brushing his shaggy dark hair off his forehead as he pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Itlooks likeshe used the lawyer’s business account to book the rental. There’s nothing in her name at all.”
“How does that work?” Jace asks, his blond hair cropped and his eyes serious as he stares at the screen. He’s older than Royce—in his late twenties—and has been part of my team for the last five years.
“She has a business credit card from his company. She charges it and he sends her an invoice,” Royce says, not looking up. “The email confirmation was sent to”—his voice trails off as his fingers fly across the keyboard—“her personal email.”
“I’ll ask her about it,” I tell them, unsure what to do with that information. Hypothetically, she should have sentthe confirmation to her own business account to have for her records, so there has to be a reason she didn’t.
“I’ve mapped out the venue for Saturday,” Grimm cuts in, his impatience clear as he taps his pen on the table in front of him. He hates meetings but he hates video meetings more. “According to early predictions, the store is expecting upwards of two hundred people, but online chatter suggests it could be more.”
“Local police?” I ask, knowing the answer before Grimm says it.
“Not likely. They’re more concerned with traffic than anything. I pulled the roster of everyone working that day and gave a couple of guys the heads-up that we might need assistance.”
“Good,” I tell the thirty-something operations lead. While we have several teams running out of Andrews International, I handpicked this one.
We’re the best.
I made sure of it.
“I’m still working on the ex-boyfriend,” Ozzy says, and the strangest surge of jealousy spikes in my veins. Out of all of us, Ozzy is the most unassuming and possibly the most lethal. Former special forces, his light-brown hair is always just shy of being too long, and he sports a lazy, disarming smile that drives Grimm crazy but is essential when he needs information in the field.
“Did you get the stuff I sent you?” Royce asks and Ozzy nods.
“Yeah, a couple of recent drunken phone calls with voice messages she never listened to because he’s been blocked since the breakup. I’m not comfortable eliminating him yet. He called Kat a week before the fire, and there are several messages on social media. She has him blocked on everything but one app.”
“Did she open it?” Jace asks.
“Yeah, she left it on read but didn’t respond.”
“That’s cold.” Jace chuckles and I can feel a headache blooming behind my right eye. “I spoke to local police handling the fire at the rental. So far there are no leads. We know she didn’t disclose to them her connection to the books, so that’s a dead end as far as they’re concerned. The houses are spaced far enough apart that no one saw anything suspicious until the fire engulfed the box. No viable footage from any cameras in the area, and no dark sedans resembling the one from the footage at her house.”
“Jace, meet up with Grimm to nail everything down for Saturday. Kat said there’s an announcement for an award given by the city and both she and Hazel are nominees. Have we eliminated her yet? And where are we on the other two suspects?”
“Aunt is…weird,” Royce says, flipping through pages of notes. “Very religious. Originally from Alabama but moved to Chicago to be close to Hazel about ten years ago. Never married and nothing remarkable to speak of overall.”
“So, what’s weird?” Grimm says, his pen still tapping.
“The language she uses when referring to Hazel’s books versus Kat’s.”
“Explain.” The word is gruff, but it’s late and they’re used to me by now.
