Jesus Christ. Kerri offered, “The Thompsons.”

“And we have a winner. Jacqueline worked for Theo’s old man back when he was a young state senator. But she only worked for him a few months, and then she disappeared. Six months later she pops up in San Diego with a newborn baby girl. Five years later she married a Rollins, Sela’s father.”

Janelle was the baby girl. That could mean T. R. Thompson was Janelle’s father. But why would Janelle want to marry a man who could very well have been her own brother?

“So Old Man Thompson knocked her up,” Falco suggested, voicing Kerri’s thought, “and then sent her away.”

“Maybe,” Cross agreed. “But he isn’t the one who set her up in that house while she was working in Birmingham. The one that got torched, I mean.”

“Wait.” Anticipation zinged Kerri. “If it wasn’t Thompson, who was it?”

“DATACO.”

Falco turned to Kerri as she asked the question Cross had already answered. “Daniel Abbott set her up in the house?”

“The one and only. The property still belongs to his company. A year ago it was rented by an S. Carter. Still is.”

S. Carter. Sela had used her mother’s maiden name to rent the house.

And now they knew. “That’s where she’s been hiding.” Kerri drew in a tight breath.

Falco’s eyes told her he’d just realized the same thing. The vic pulled out of that burned house was likely Sela Abbott. Damn it! They needed some word back from the ME on that body.

Falco cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

“That’s it. You owe me big time, Falco.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got you covered, Cross.”

Falco ended the call and dropped his phone onto the console. “We need to talk to Daniel Abbott.”

“Oh yeah,” Kerri agreed. “Sela didn’t come here just looking for the truth about what happened to her sister. She had a second agenda. To get back at the man who got her mother pregnant and then threw her away. What better way than to marry his only son?”

“I have to give the lady credit,” Falco said. “That was a hell of a move.”

“Let’s just hope she didn’t kill him as part of that revenge.” Or that she didn’t burn in that fucking house.

Falco laughed a dry sound. “The best part in all this is that the bastard had to know it all along. He could see the woman posing as Sela’s mother was an imposter. How the hell many secrets have these people been keeping?”

“We’ll probably never know.”

Falco started his car. “I assume we’re heading to pay Abbott a visit now.”

“First, I have to go to that big luncheon Theo Thompson is hosting. It may be my only chance to catch him in a situation where he can’t ignore me. We’ll hit the Abbotts right after.” Kerri fastened her seat belt. “Daniel Abbott may have gotten Sela’s mother pregnant and sent her away, but Theo Thompson may have killed her sister.”

“Gotcha.” Falco pulled out onto the road. “Murder trumps being an asshole.”

53

12:15 p.m.

Thompson Building

Richard Arrington Boulevard

By the time Kerri arrived at the Thompson Building, the closed-door luncheon had already started in the main conference room. Though patience had never been one of her virtues, she had no choice but to sit it out.

The Thompson Building was actually the historic Harris Building built in 1910. T. R. Thompson had purchased it right out of college and decided this would be his primary business office—right downtown for all to see. The building had been in the family for half a century. This was in all likelihood where Sela Abbott’s mother had worked when she’d lived in Birmingham. Like some ill-fated legacy, her sister, Janelle, had worked here as well. Kerri wondered how many times Sela had walked these halls and considered those bizarre facts?

How had she sat at the table with Daniel Abbott for a family meal knowing how he had hurt her mother?

During the half hour or so that had passed since hearing from Cross, Kerri had mulled over the shocking information. No question the woman who’d died along with Ben Abbott was an imposter. Sela’s mother had died in Mexico. Based on the history of the Thirty-Third Avenue house, they were assuming Daniel Abbott had been involved with Sela’s mother, but it was possible they had jumped too quickly to that conclusion. Maybe he had been trying to help her. Maybe it was his buddy T. R. who’d gotten her pregnant.

Every new piece of information came with multiple questions—and new potential holes in the puzzle.

Kerri pushed the troubling thoughts aside for the moment. She needed a clear head for this meeting with Thompson. Falco had taken her to get her Wagoneer since she would be hanging around the Thompson Building for a while. No point in both of them being stuck waiting. He had gone back to the house—the one where Sela’s mother had lived all those years ago—to have another look in light of what they now knew. He intended to show Sela’s photo as well as one of a similar blue Plymouth to the few neighbors along the street. Maybe someone had seen her or the car. The cops canvassing the neighbors the day of the fire wouldn’t have known to ask about the car.

The investigator, Neal Ramsey, had dropped out of sight. He wasn’t returning her calls or Bellemont’s. The attorney was still standing by the man. Kerri wasn’t. She’d issued an APB on the vehicle registered to Ramsey. For all she knew, he could be holding Amelia hostage somewhere for this unnamed client.

Kerri wasn’t taking any chances. The worry and fear she had compartmentalized for the past thirty or so hours attempted to break loose, but she pushed it back. She couldn’t help Amelia if she lost control.

She put her hand on her right knee to stop its impatient bouncing. She sent a text to Diana to see how she was doing. Kerri’s heart twisted with the need to fix this for her. Then she sent a text to Tori to see how her day at the mall was going. Her response was a photo of multiple shopping bags. Kerri hoped she wasn’t going to regret sending her credit card with her daughter.

She glanced at the reception desk. It would have been nice if she had arrived before the luncheon started, but the call had come in about Keaton, and then they’d heard from Cross. Exhaling a big breath, she resituated herself and checked her messages again.

It was nearly one o’clock before the luncheon was over. Kerri had already warned Thompson’s personal assistant that if he didn’t see her in his office, she would ask her questions right out here in the corridor, where anyone could hear. Particularly the media, who had all decided the Abbott murders were no longer as interesting as their next senator and governor.

Kerri watched Thompson as his assistant passed along the message.

He promptly exchanged his final handshakes and thank-yous and departed the group. He didn’t look at Kerri as he walked hurriedly past.

The assistant appeared next. “This way, Detective.”

Unlike Thompson, the assistant took her time showing Kerri down the main corridor and off to the left to an even larger corridor that ended at a set of towering double doors. “He’s waiting for you just beyond those doors.”

Kerri thanked her and walked into the man’s office.

His office was far more lavish than the small conference room where she and Falco had met with his wife. Thompson sat behind an extravagant mahogany desk, his hands resting on the leather-bound blotter pad.

“Please have a seat.” He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Detective?”

His voice was strained, but the smile on his face was pure politician. Not surprising. The man was born to be exactly who he was.

“Mr. Thompson, you’re aware of the double homicide involving Ben Abbott and his mother-in-law, Jacqueline Rollins.”

“I am. A tragedy. I understand there are still no suspects. Is that true?”

“Actually,” Kerri said, “we have two prime suspects.”

“Really?” Surprise flared briefly on his face.

“One of them is you, Mr. Thompson.” Kerri smiled, enjoying far too much his initial reaction to the announcement. The startled look was priceless. She would likely take a raking over the coals for that statement, but it had been worth it.

He laughed, the sound more a scoff than a laugh. “You can’t be serious, and please don’t tell me this has anything to do with that photograph you showed my wife.”

Kerri held her smile in place. “I’m glad you mentioned the photo. We’re also reopening the case of Sela Abbott’s missing sister. You remember her, don’t you? Janelle Stevens? The two of you had an affair when she worked for your father.”

The pallor that fell over the man’s face was confession enough for Kerri.

The door burst open, and Lewis York strode in. Behind him were two members of Thompson’s security staff, judging by their uniforms. The two men remained by the open doors as York stormed all the way to Thompson’s desk. “Don’t say another word, Theo.”