He shrugged. “To some extent—and within the law, of course—what my investigators do might at times be deemed as spying. But it’s no different than the things you do in the course of an investigation.”

“When this sort of situation arises,” Kerri went on since she’d gotten this far, “I assume you select someone who presumably would be able to get close to the target.” Her pulse was hammering now.

“That is a reasonable assumption.” He’d settled deeper into his chair, seemed to be enjoying this dance on the edge.

“Would you use another staff member if necessary rather than one of your investigators? An assistant, maybe?”

His gaze narrowed. “Possibly.”

“What about an intern?” She held his gaze, didn’t even blink.

He shook his head resolutely. “Absolutely not. Interns are basically children. I would never use a child in such a way. I have a child of my own. The idea is unconscionable.”

Before she could decide if he was telling the truth or just a really good liar, he stood, signaling the meeting was over.

Kerri and Falco did the same. She said, “Thank you for your time, Mr. York.”

“Always happy to help the Birmingham PD.” York led the way back to the front door. “Good evening, Detectives.”

Falco turned to him once more before walking away. “I’m sure if we have more questions, you’ll be available.”

“Of course.” York’s face remained clean of tells.

They had stepped out onto the veranda when his voice stopped them once more. “Detective Devlin, you’re Amelia’s aunt, aren’t you?”

Kerri shifted back to him, held her breath. “I am.”

He smiled. “She speaks of you often. At the firm we’re very proud to have her on staff. She is a brilliant young lady. I predict she has a bright future ahead of her.”

Kerri forced her lips into a smile. “Thank you.”

When they were in the car driving away, Falco asked, “Pick up any vibes?”

“Only that Bellemont was right. He’s arrogant, for sure. Unafraid. He wasn’t the slightest bit worried about talking to us. He probably saw it as a challenge. Whatever he knows about Sela Abbott, he will never tell.”

“He wanted you to know he was aware you were talking about Amelia when you mentioned an intern.”

Kerri blocked the dozens of scenarios—all related to Amelia—that bombarded her. “He did.”

If he’d thought that being so accommodating would take him off Kerri’s bad-guy radar, he was dead wrong.

“You mind stopping by Diana’s so I can pick up Tori?”

“Sure thing, Devlin.”

“I was thinking of ordering pizza,” she ventured. “You could stay for dinner if you’d like.”

Falco shot her a grin. “I knew it. You like me, don’t you, Devlin?”

She shook her head. “You’re growing on me.”

40

Leaving exactly the right number of bread crumbs is crucial.

People are so often oblivious.

It’s true. They are selective about what they see. It’s easier to see things through that narrow view of only what they want to see. The concept makes life more comfortable. No one wants to believe a woman might actually murder her husband and her mother or that she would destroy the baby she carried. Or that someone you trust—someone you know well—might betray you . . . hurt you . . . perhaps kill you.

No one wants to think about it. It’s too hard.

Too painful.

So they don’t look. They block it from their minds. Allow the news to scroll past unnoticed. They wear their blinders to protect their sensibilities.

But I need them to look.

It’s time to lead them to the truth. The first move in that direction starts today.

I climb into the back seat of the Uber and watch the blue car that served my purposes fade into nothing behind me as the driver speeds away.

The utterly unmemorable relic is now going to play the most important role of its pathetic life.

I didn’t forget the detectives. I left little clues for them as well. I am confident Detective Devlin will appreciate the effort.

It’s strange, but I like her. I’m betting she is everything I’ve heard she is.

She will put the pieces together.

Most important, by leaving the car at this remote cabin, I am sending the property owner a message.

I’m coming for you.

When he gets the message, I hope he warns his friends.

They are next.

41

Wednesday, June 13

9:00 a.m.

Abbott Lake House

Great Pine Lake

Only a family as wealthy as the Abbotts would call a multimillion-dollar, seven-thousand-plus-square-foot mansion their lake house. The house sat in the woods on nearly two acres. The water and mountain views were spectacular. Natural beauty and utter serenity only twenty minutes from the city’s most upscale lifestyle center (a.k.a. mall).

“Too bad we can’t go inside,” Falco noted as he surveyed the three-story house.

Asking the Abbotts for permission would have given a heads-up that they were checking out the family’s numerous properties.

“No rule says we can’t look in the windows.” Kerri climbed the steps to the large porch. It was impossible to see through the stained glass of the front door. She walked from window to window and peered inside. The plantation shutters were open. The rooms beyond were fully and elegantly furnished. No lights on. No sign of occupancy. Falco was right: too bad they couldn’t go inside.

“No one has gone through this door in weeks,” he said, drawing her attention to him.

She joined him at the door, and he pointed to the knob. “See all that pollen? We haven’t had a high enough pollen count to do that since the last week of May. I’m guessing the cleaning service only comes out every month when the house is empty.”

The guy was full of surprises. “You keep a watch on the pollen count?”

He tapped the side of the nose. “Plays hell with my allergies.”

“Let’s check out the other doors.”

“Good idea, Devlin.” He grinned. “I wish I’d thought of it.”

Kerri ignored his dig.

It was the same at the other four entrances to the house. A heavy layer of dust and pollen sat on the antique bronze knobs or handles. No sign that anything had been disturbed beyond the windows through which they could see.

After a walk around the property, they loaded into his Charger once more and headed back to the city. They had already checked the offices and rental properties owned by the Abbotts. All were occupied.

“It’s possible there’s something under a different name,” Kerri said, more to herself than to her partner.

“We could check under Ben Abbott’s mother’s maiden name.” Falco pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll have my contact in property records check it out.”

Kerri scanned the passing landscape. Sela Abbott was laying low somewhere. She had resources, and Birmingham was a big town. She could be anywhere. “Where are we headed?”

“We didn’t get back to the Abbott house to look for that weapon.”

They’d meant to get back there yesterday, but then Diana had called. Another look around the crime scene was essential with the discovery that Sela Abbott had purchased a handgun.

“I should finish going through the rooms upstairs as well.” Kerri hadn’t gotten past the mother-in-law’s room on Sunday. Sometimes the most complex answers were found in the simplest of places.

Diana had called first thing this morning to let Kerri know Amelia hadn’t come home last night. She had, however, sent a text this morning saying she was okay and at work.

Kerri wanted to be grateful for that, but mostly she wanted to shake her niece. What the hell was she doing? Everyone who loved her was walking around on eggshells for fear of wrecking her future by showing up at the firm in person to demand some sort of explanation for her out-of-character behavior. Their calls to Bellemont’s investigator, Neal Ramsey, had gone unreturned. Who the hell knew what was going on with that guy? Bellemont insisted he was completely trustworthy, but Kerri wasn’t convinced.

It would be so easy to set the whole issue aside and just call it Amelia attempting to prove she was an adult now. But the connection to Sela Abbott prevented Kerri from being able to let it go so easily.

Why the hell did daughters have to be so nerve racking?

Abbott Crime Scene

Botanical Place, Mountain Brook

The Abbott home smelled of death. It had been closed up for a week now, and the odors related to the killings had seeped into the walls and the upholstery. The air was thick with it. Part of it was the idea of knowing what took place within these walls. The images that replayed instantly triggered memories of the smells from that first visit.

So far no one had pushed for release of the property, which was a good thing. Generally, every attempt was made to release a residence as quickly as possible, but since no one who had resided in this house was still around, there was no hurry.

They started outside, checking behind, under, and between shrubs before going inside. The garage was easy enough. Ben Abbott hadn’t been a DIY kind of guy when it came to maintenance around the house, so there was little to sort through. The downstairs living areas took additional time.