Shoemaker said, “Brad Cowl is a very important guy in this town. He’s been very generous with certain people at NYPD and City Hall. I’m not saying any heads-up came from there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it did.”

  Ekman interjected, “But from what you said, Cowl might have done Stamos himself.”

  “He might have. There might not have been time to hire a gun. By the way, how did she die?”

  Ekman glanced at Shoemaker. “It goes no further, Devine.”

  “It won’t.”

  “The killer drugged her, then tied her to her bed, and then carved the word bitch on her belly. She bled out.”

  Devine felt the little breakfast he’d eaten start to come back up on him. He bent forward and stared at the floorboard, his breathing short and choppy. After about thirty seconds he sat up straight and looked at the two men.

  Shoemaker almost appeared sympathetic. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “Pretty sick.”

  “Was Stamos pregnant?”

  “No, that’s what we thought, too. ME confirmed that she wasn’t,” replied Ekman.

  “So why do it . . . that way?”

  “It was to send a message, is what I’m thinking. What that message was, who knows.”

  “And no one saw anything?” asked Devine.

  “Nope. We’ve checked. That late on a weekday in that neighborhood, not surprising. We think the killer got in through a window in the back. Stamos was on the first floor. No signs of a struggle. Same with the Eweses. They were probably dead asleep.” Ekman blanched. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”

  “So, the Ewes family got wiped out,” said Shoemaker thoughtfully. “Which seemed to be the killer’s intent. But why? Why did they have to die? They just got to the country. What possible beef could someone have with them? Is it just the connection with their daughter?”

  “And her connection to Brad Cowl?” added Ekman. “If he is involved in some crooked money scheme, and maybe Sara Ewes found out? They could have been afraid that she had told her parents something.”

  “I was thinking that, too, but now I seriously doubt that actually happened,” said Devine. “She was estranged from her parents. They were Christian missionaries, and I don’t think they would have had any interest in or understanding of any part of Sara’s world.”

  “You mean her and Stamos being a thing, like you told us before?”

  “Yes. Her mother was not in favor of same-sex couples and made no secret of it.”

  “But how could someone even know that? They just got to New York.”

  “Well, I found out just by being around her for a few minutes. And she thought her daughter was a slut sleeping around outside of marriage.”

  Shoemaker said, “We seem to be going in circles. If all these deaths aren’t connected to the Cowl business, what then?”

  Devine thought back to the emails he had gotten. The one that not even the likes of Will Valentine could trace, and he didn’t know if Campbell’s people would have better luck. Although he was hoping Tapshaw, and her magical fingers, could do the trick.

  Was the killer trying to let me know that I’m involved in all this? Do they blame me for what happened to Sara and Jennifer? Who would have that sort of grudge against me? What have I done?

  He debated on whether to share this with the detectives, but decided not to. It would just piss them off that he had withheld such evidence. And they were getting along so well right now.

  “You said the Eweses were stabbed in the heart?”

  “Right through, yeah. Why?” asked Shoemaker.

  “The heart symbolizes emotions, beliefs, feelings.”

  “So?” said Ekman.

  “I don’t know. Just thinking out loud. Maybe the killer murdered each person in ways to symbolize the reason why they were killed.”

  Ekman and Shoemaker exchanged another, interested glance.

  “Sara Ewes was hanged. What does that symbolize?” asked Ekman.

  “Well,” said Devine, “in the past, they used to hang traitors.”

  So when does my turn come?

  CHAPTER

  64

  IT WAS BARELY NOON AND the news of Fred and Ellen Ewes’s having been murdered had circulated throughout Cowl and Comely.

  Devine abruptly left his office and sought out Wanda Simms.

  “Any idea where Mr. Cowl is?” he asked.

  “I’m not his keeper, Travis,” the woman said sharply, but then her look immediately softened. “I’m sorry, but this is all getting to me. Four people have been murdered. And two of them worked here, and the other victims were the parents of one of them.”

  “You’d think the head of the company would be around to lead the troops.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “For all I know he jetted off to some island with a group of swimsuit models. But if you say I told you that I’ll deny it.”

  “Have you spoken to his little group of executives?”

  “I have. And they won’t say a word about him. Too afraid, I would imagine.”

  I would imagine, too.

  “Wanda, do you have any idea what’s on the fifty-first floor?”

  Her look immediately became guarded. “Why, what’s it to you?”

  “Four people have been killed, like you said. And that floor is the only one that no one can access.”

  “Oh come on, Travis. Every investment house has secure areas. It’s probably where the high-frequency trading takes place. Just servers and the like. Did you ever think of that?”

  Yes, I did, thought Devine. “One more thing. Did you tell anyone that I had come up to the fifty-second floor on the morning Sara’s body was found?”

  She looked warily at him. “Why?”

  “Just trying to figure something out.”

  “I might have mentioned it to Jenn Stamos, actually. Now she’s dead, too. And she was really broken up about Sara’s death. I didn’t think they were that friendly.”

  “Well, you just never know. Thanks.”

  So that’s why Hancock was sicced on me so fast. Stamos might have learned from Sara that we had slept together. And then I show up asking questions. She tells Cowl, and Cowl gives marching orders to Hancock—or Bartlett, rather—to go play detective and find out what he can. And Stamos also told Cowl I had come back to the building that night and that the guard saw me. He checked the security log and there was my security card for the fifty-second floor. And then he sees my security card log-in and my face on the video on the night Sara died and plans to frame me.

  And he also thought that might be why Rachel Potter from Channel 44 had been on his case, too. One of her confidential or probably anonymous sources might have been Hancock/Bartlett using her to put the squeeze on him.

  He texted Campbell, asking for a meeting.

  He got a nearly instant reply, and location. He left Cowl and headed for the Fifties again.

  And on the way he got another email from the untraceable source.

  I was surprised I could find Mr. and Mrs. Eweses’ hearts to stab. The world is better off without them. I hope you agree.

  Devine slowly put the phone away and kept walking. But with every step the dread he was feeling grew like a cancer, creeping to every organ he had.

  * * *

  The restaurant door opened for Devine and he slipped inside.

  Campbell was waiting for him in the same room.

  “Thanks for running interference for me last night.”

  “I take it the detectives assigned to the case have made contact?”

  “Early this morning. They’re playing nice.”

  “Good. We have been monitoring Area 51. It’s still shut down.”

  “I had a buddy of mine dig up some things on the Locust Group.” He went on to tell the general about how many companies and assets and countries were involved.

  “My folks are finding the same thing. And it goes far beyond the Locust Group. We saw a great many entities that appeared regularly on the surveillance feed, even in the short time we had access before it was shut down.”

  Devine also told him about his theory on the name Anne Comely being an anagram.

  “Clean Money? I think you must be right.”

  “Were you able to trace those emails? Because I just got another one.” He showed Campbell the latest message.

  The general sighed and sat back. “The long and short of it is, no. The general consensus is that none of my IT people have seen anything like this.”

  Devine said, “I received that first email on the day that Sara’s body was found. As you saw, it had intimate details about the murder that only the killer would know. At first I thought someone else had found her body and emailed me because, well, they knew that I liked Sara.”

  “I think it was more than liked, Devine.”

  He looked at the general with a blank expression.

  “I have three sons and two daughters, soldier. I’ve seen broken hearts before.”

  Devine looked at the general with a new level of respect. “As far as I know, I’m the only one who got those emails.”

  “The killer must be someone at the firm. We thought that all along, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, and there’s something else. The way the people were killed. Sara hanged. Stamos . . . Stamos . . .”

  “Yes, I know all about that, continue.”

  “And Sara’s parents stabbed through the heart. I think each was symbolic.”

  “What’s your take on what each one represents?”

  “Sara the traitor. Stamos, well, I’m not sure. But her wounds reflected the killer’s anger at maybe losing Sara, and Stamos and Sara were in love. And Sara’s parents’ hearts were destroyed. And from what I learned of their relationship it might mean the killer knows about Sara and her mother’s estrangement, too. The killer intimated that it was difficult for him to find their hearts, and that the world was better off without such people.”

  “You know what all that adds up to, don’t you?”

  “Sir?”

  “That the reasons these people were killed have nothing to do with Brad Cowl and Area 51, and everything to do with Sara Ewes. Which means the matter is more for the police than it is for me and you. We need to focus on the scheme at Cowl and Comely, Devine. The police can solve the murders.”

  “But it could still be someone at Cowl’s firm who committed the murders,” countered Devine. “Sara was pregnant. And even though she had artificial insemination through a donor, we don’t know who that donor was.”

  Campbell looked intrigued by this theory. “You think it might have been Cowl? Because that would put it back in our camp.”

  Even though Devine had been told the donor had died, there was no proof of that. “It’s certainly possible. He said he never slept with her, but he could have donated his sperm. And he had motive, means, and opportunity.”

  “So, you have two different cases to solve, but maybe with a related core element: Brad Cowl. And then there’s the question of who might be next,” added Campbell.

  Devine looked up to see Campbell staring at him and perhaps reading his thoughts.

  “And that someone might be you,” Campbell said.

  CHAPTER

  65

  DEVINE WAS ON HIS WAY to the subway after leaving work early when his phone rang.

  “Michelle?”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Walking up Broad Street and enjoying the heat, why?”

  “Can you meet me at Brad’s place later, the one outside the city?”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t get into his penthouse without his phone, but I do have a key to the house. If he’s not there, we can make a search. We might find something to nail that son of a bitch. And if he is there we can . . . well, strangle the asshole.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Devine took the train home, changed, and was heading out when Tapshaw called out to him.

  He turned to see her at the top of the stairs. “I got an email this morning. Mayflower is going to pull the trigger and invest. Fifty million, Travis, and at a valuation that will leave me with complete control of the company. This will change everything.”

  He tried to force a smile. Force, because if this was dirty money, and it had to be taken back? “That’s great, Jill. You must have really wowed them. And that valuation means you are rich!”

  She blushed at this. “I’ve been scrimping and saving for so long, it doesn’t feel any different. But I believe they definitely think there’s a lot of potential in my platform and business plan. If I close the deal, how about another tequila date? You helped me a lot.”

  He again forced a smile. “I’m all in. But my turn to buy.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Hell, Travis, with all that money I think I can afford to splurge a little. And the thousand dollars you put in? It’s worth a lot more now.”

  He watched her walk off. And then his smile faded. Shit.

  He hopped on his bike and sped off to meet Montgomery.

  She was waiting outside the gates for him. She had Ubered out, she told him.

  “What about the hired help?” he asked.

  “They’re used to me being around. And as I said before, they’re no fans of Brad’s.”

  They headed into the house and a maid came around the corner and nearly plowed into them.

  “Oh my goodness, Miss Michelle, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Denise. Is Brad here? I’ve been calling and calling and nothing.”

  “No, ma’am. I haven’t seen him in a few days. But that’s not unusual. He’s so busy. He might be in China for all I know.”

  “Right, well, we’re going to hang out here for a bit. Travis here works for Brad, and hopefully, he’ll show up. Look, why don’t you and the rest of the crew take the rest of the night off? There’s no reason for you to hang around.”

  “But if Mr. Cowl—”

  “If he shows up, I’ll take full responsibility.” She smiled impishly. “And I can mix the man a drink myself if he so requires. And fry him an egg.”

  Denise grinned. “All right, miss, if you’re sure.”

  Ten minutes later the staff had left and gone to their quarters on the other side of the property.

  Montgomery closed the door behind them and turned to Devine. “Let’s hit it.”

  She led him into what looked like a home office.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” he asked.

  “Anything to show the guy is a crook.”

  “And maybe a killer,” he said.

  “Two people dead and—”

  “It’s now four, actually.”

  She whirled around to stare at him. “What!”

  “Sara Ewes’s parents. They were murdered in their bed at Sara’s place two nights ago.”

  “Oh my God. And you think Brad—?”

  “I don’t know. I do know someone sent me, and apparently only me, an email detailing Sara’s crime scene. They also sent me messages about the murders of Stamos and the Eweses. It has to have been the killer. Which means the person has some beef with me. Only I don’t know why.”

  “You had a thing going with Sara. Maybe the killer knew and was jealous.”

  “That would explain some things. And Stamos and Sara were apparently a couple but keeping it under wraps. Maybe that’s why Stamos was killed.”

  “And the parents?”

  “The mother was outright hostile to Sara’s lifestyle. The email shows the killer didn’t like that. But I’d like to know how the person knew about it.”

  “It might have been in a diary or something.”

  “Which the cops couldn’t find.”

  “Why would the killer care what her mother thought of Sara?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Devine.

  “Hey, maybe she broke up with the guy she was seeing. He was the father and she ended the pregnancy because she didn’t want to carry his baby.”

  “I found out that Sara had artificial insemination. She used a sperm donor.”

  “But then why terminate the pregnancy?”

  Devine shook his head. “No idea.”

  They began searching the office. They found nothing helpful there and headed upstairs.

  “We have separate bedrooms,” Montgomery told him. “Brad’s is at the end of the hall. It’s about as big as my apartment.”

  They went inside the chamber, which was really a suite with multiple rooms and every rich-guy toy one could hope for: two fireplaces, enormous TVs, a full bar, a sitting area, a spa with steam room, sauna, and whirlpool, a massage room, and a bathtub nearly large enough to do laps in, with a walk-in shower next to it that looked like a Roman grotto. And five classic pinball machines along with a pool table.

  “Who could sleep in here?” he said. “Too many distractions.” Devine looked at the bed that was about the size of his room. “How do two people find each other on that?”

  “Brad never had a problem finding me, I can assure you.”

  “Don’t go there, Michelle. I do not want to hear it.”

  After a fruitless search, they perched on the bed and gazed out the floor-to-ceiling tinted windows.

  “So, what now?” asked Montgomery.

  “The penthouse is a no-go. Area 51 the same. So I’m not sure what now.”

  Devine’s phone buzzed. It was Campbell.

  “We need to talk right away.”

  “Where are you?” asked Devine.

  “The first place we met.”

  “I can be there in thirty minutes.” He glanced at Montgomery. “Mind if I bring along someone?”

  “Who?”

  Devine told him.

  “That is not a good idea, Devine. We have no idea if she’s working for Cowl and just stringing you along.”

  Devine looked at Montgomery. “I’ve trusted her with my life, and she came through. She’s had plenty of opportunities to throw me to the dogs and she hasn’t. I’ve told her a lot. And if she had ratted me out to Cowl, I wouldn’t be around.”

  “This is highly unusual, Devine.”

  “You recruited me, sir. I’m not a trained spy or intel officer. I’m flying by the seat of my pants. But in the Middle East I spent years reading people, trying to decide if they were trustworthy or would betray me when the opportunity arose. And I got damn good at it. So I’m just asking you to trust me on this. Soldier to soldier.”