Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,124

thoughtful. “I believe so. Their relationship was … different. But again, Earl was not one to live by traditional rules. Your mother suited him. For that matter, he loved you, as well.” Now she shrugs both shoulders. “A genius and a family man. They are not so easy to find.”

“But you didn’t want him.”

“I always knew he was already taken.”

“My mother.”

Katarina doesn’t answer as much as she regards me steadily. And in that look, I know what I was afraid to hear. The doubt that had been growing for hours now. My mom had been with me that day. But as Katarina said, my mother wasn’t one to do her own dirty work. My volatile, reckless, overdramatic mom …

“She knew about the affair,” I whisper. “You said my father told you as much. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“She came to see me.”

I don’t speak. Now that the moment has arrived, I am genuinely frightened by what I’ll hear next.

“She told me to stay away from her husband. The whole ‘how dare you’ speech.” Katarina sounds bored. “Followed by the ‘if I can’t have him, no one will.’”

“What did she mean?”

Katarina arches a brow. “What do you think she meant?”

I can’t breathe. I think the coffee shop is too hot, too crowded. My mother, famous for her rages. If she really thought my father was going to leave her for another woman—especially one as beautiful and gifted as Katarina Ivanova. My mother, whose entire world had revolved around her husband, nurturing his genius, protecting his legacy. A widow was well respected. A jilted ex-wife, on the other hand …

“She couldn’t have done it herself.”

That steady stare.

“Who would she … How would she … I mean, this is my mom. It’s not like she has a number for some hired shooter next to home repair.”

Katarina finally smiles. “She does not need such a number.”

“What do you mean?”

“She already knows who to call. Don’t you?”

I can only stare at her in confusion. The gorgeous professor finally shakes her head. “You really do not know your family, do you?”

“I guess not.”

“Do you still want to know the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m not the one to talk to, for I honestly do not have the answers. Suspicions, yes. Answers, no.”

I understand. Where I need to go next. Whom I must see next.

Katarina rises to standing. She is done with me. And most likely, based on my washed-out, shell-shocked features, she assumes I really will take it no further. People think they want knowledge. Until they have it, of course.

I watch her weave her way through the crowded room. The way certain men glance up, then look again. The smile she has for each and every one of them. She is beautiful, beguiling, and brilliant.

If I see that, my mother saw that, too. This new and unexpected danger to her heart, her family, her very identity.

I finally rise to standing. What I need to learn next can’t happen here.

I’m just leaving the coffee shop when I first hear the sound of sirens.

Chapter 35

D.D.

“WE GOT A PROBLEM.” PHIL hung up his phone, turned to D.D., who was just now climbing into the vehicle.

“Talk,” D.D. demanded. They’d wrapped up the scene at the Delaney fire and were now headed for Cambridge, given Flora’s suspicion that their arsonist, Rocket Langley, was headed for Evie’s mother’s house next.

“A series of fires have erupted in Cambridge.”

“Rocket is already at Evie’s mother’s house?”

“No. Harvard campus. Trash-can fires. Three, four, five. I’m not sure. Calls are still pouring into the fire department. Details are sketchy, but it sounds like there’s a series of fires all over campus.”

D.D. didn’t know what to say. “What are the odds our firebug was last seen headed for Cambridge, and now there’s a string of fires on the Harvard campus? Except”—she glanced at Phil in confusion—“Rocket is known for structural fires. Why the hell would he suddenly be messing around with something as petty as trash-can fires.”

Phil shrugged. “Got bored? Killing time? I don’t know. I’m still not sure why anyone likes fire so much. But I’m with you—Rocket was last seen headed toward Cambridge. These new fires must be his handiwork. Too coincidental to be anything else.”

D.D. shook her head. “As soon as this case almost makes sense, it runs away from us again. Burning Evie’s house I can get. Torch Evie’s lawyer’s house, sure. But trash-can fires on a campus where Evie’s father worked sixteen years ago? That defies all logic.” She scowled, whacked