The Pan family, Moore thought. George and Angela. What a love story there is to tell about those two, huh?

  The Pans were reaching into the back seat of the minivan. With the interior lights on, Tull’s researcher could see they were fumbling with car seats. Angela came out with one of their sons first. His twin came out in George’s arms a few moments later. Both looked sound asleep.

  A long day for three-year-old Derek and Miles, Moore thought. I wonder how the Pans tell the boys apart. I can’t tell who’s who from the pictures Angela posts on Instagram.

  The Pan family entered their front door and soon there were lights on downstairs and up. Moore wondered whether she should shut down this observation post for the evening and pay a short visit to the secondary one before calling it a night. Then her phone buzzed in her pocket.

  Feeling like a decision was being made for her, she got off the porch rail, fished out her phone, looked at the caller ID, and saw TT. Tull’s researcher declined the call and texted the author that she would phone when she got to her car.

  After checking both ways, Moore moved out of the shadows and down the street with only a glance back at the Pans’ bungalow before she turned the corner. Three blocks on, she opened the door of a black Prius and climbed in.

  After she’d gone several more blocks, she called Tull.

  “How’s it going, Lisa?” the author asked.

  “Solid foundational work, T,” she replied. “The surveillance site on the Pans is good. And I’ve got pictures of their house, front and back, as well as copies of their recent renovation blueprints. I think they are a go if there’s ginning to be done.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “And the Allisons?”

  “I’m heading in their direction now,” Moore said. “You shouldn’t wait up.”

  “I will anyway,” Tull said. “I want to see those pictures and the blueprints.”

  Chapter

  32

  Around eleven Saturday evening, I was alone in the front room watching the local news when my cell phone buzzed with a text.

  Bravo, Cross, you must be one happy pappy now that Jannie has shown the world her true mettle. A stunning achievement. Congrats to all. Your faithful servant—M

  My stomach turned at the text’s end and that single letter M.

  I had been getting these kinds of texts and messages on and off for years, and I was still no closer to identifying M or Maestro, the group of ruthless vigilantes M controlled.

  Before that evening’s text, M had been silent for nearly seven months, ever since the explosion that took the life of Emmanuella Alejandro, last of that drug cartel’s leaders. I stared at this latest message, frustrated all over again at my inability to nail M. I wanted to reply to the text, but M always used dark web filters and routing systems to scrub all identifying information, making it impossible to answer.

  I had tried changing my phone number several times, to no avail. If M wanted to message me, he always found a way.

  Before my irritation could turn to anger, my phone rang. Bree.

  “How was your grand evening?” I asked.

  “Grand until my cover got blown,” Bree said.

  “Ouch.”

  “Big ouch and my own fault,” she replied. “I was buying a dress and watching Jannie’s race with Marjorie, the clerk who was helping me.”

  “I remember her.”

  “She’s related to the target and knew my real name from the credit cards.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got tossed from the gala.”

  “Escorted out?”

  “To my town car, and they watched as I was driven away.”

  “You tell Elena Martin yet?”

  Bree sighed. “She’s my next phone call.”

  “Did you find anything useful before you got the heave-ho? Any positives you can report to her?”

  After a long pause, she said, “I believe the target is having serious cash-flow problems.”

  “Is that the motive to sexually exploit?”

  “I think so. But I have to get it nailed down as fact,” Bree said. “The target’s business is privately and hedge fund–held, so there aren’t the kind of declaratory documents a public company has to file with the Securities and Exchange Commission.”

  “Anything else?”

  “As I was being led out, I purposefully mentioned the first names of two people allegedly involved in the sex ring.”

  “You get a reaction?”

  “Lost color. Big glare. Fists clenched. Dead silent.”

  “Sounds like you should tell Elena that good news first.”

  “Maybe I’ll give her the choice.”

  “Coming home tomorrow?”

  “I think I’m going to stay through Monday, see if I can salvage this. How about you? What was your day like?”

  “Exciting, to say the least. Jannie was on SportsCenter live again.”

  “Live! Did you record it?”

  “Ali did,” I said. “Jannie did great. Acted like an old pro.”

  Bree laughed softly. “God, that’s so great for her, Alex!”

  “And for us. She’s decided to go to Howard because of Coach Oliver and so we can watch her run.”

  “Howard! That’s fantastic too—you know, choosing a historically all-Black school right here rather than going across the country. Are you beside yourself?”

  “As a dad, I think ecstatic is the right word,” I said, deciding not to mention the text from M. “In fact, I’m exhausted from being ecstatic for so many hours in a row.”

  “Then you better get some sleep,” Bree said, her voice softening. “I love you.”

  “Love you too. Good luck with all of it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and hung up.

  Upstairs in bed, I decided I would go back and finish Noon in Berlin after I skimmed Thomas Tull’s third book, Doctor’s Orders, which was set in South Carolina. But after reading the same paragraph three times and grasping little of it, I knew I was too far gone; I set the book down and turned off the light.

  I fell into dreamless oblivion in seconds and slept so soundly I did not hear my phone ringing until it vibrated off my nightstand and hit the floor with a crack.

  The phone stopped ringing and buzzing, but I’d been startled awake enough to peer blearily at my nightstand clock. It was six thirty Sunday morning.

  I groaned, knowing I should either check the phone or ignore it, get up, and go for a run. But then it started ringing again.

  I leaned over, picked up the phone, and saw that, fortunately, the screen wasn’t broken. The caller ID showed a 212 area code—New York City. Was Bree calling on the hotel phone?

  I answered. “This is Alex.”

  “Dr. Cross, it’s Suzanne Liu,” she said breathlessly. “I need to speak with you in person as soon as possible.”

  “Well, I can’t come to New York, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No, no, I’m still here in DC. I’m staying at the Watergate and doing research on Thomas. I came across something I was going to call you about, but he found out and is threatening me. I desperately need your help, Dr. Cross.”

  Chapter

  33

  I left a note for Nana Mama, Jannie, and Ali, all of whom were still sleeping, telling them that I was meeting someone for an early breakfast and that I’d be back soon.

  It was a spectacular day in the nation’s capital—not a cloud in the sky, low humidity. I saw spring flowers blooming everywhere as the Uber took me to the Watergate Hotel. I had suggested we meet at one of its restaurants.

  But when I phoned to say I was almost there, Tull’s former editor sounded shaky.

  “I know it’s probably irrational, but I never knew what Thomas was capable of, and I still don’t. I’m sorry, but could you come upstairs? The management comped me one of the ambassador suites. It has a kitchen and a balcony where we can eat.”

  I said, “I try not to be in a woman’s hotel room if it’s not my wife’s.”

  “Perfectly understandable,” she said, though her voice sounded strained. “But this is a huge suite. We’d be nowhere near the bedroom and I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering room service.”

  Against my better judgment, I sighed and said, “What’s the suite number?”

  She gave it to me along with a code I had to put into an elevator reserved for suite holders. When the elevator doors opened, Liu was standing there barefoot in black pants and a black top; her hair was pulled back, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

  “I so appreciate you coming over on such short notice, Dr. Cross,” she said. “This has all been nerve-racking beyond my wildest imagination. And now I’m being threatened. I mean, these things don’t normally happen in a book editor’s world.”

  “I expect they don’t,” I said.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I could eat something.”

  “It just arrived,” she said and led the way into a beautiful suite with dark wood floors, custom Italian leather furniture, and a sweeping view of the Potomac River.

  A room-service cart was parked in front of the open sliding doors. On the balcony was a small table with two place settings.

  “I ordered scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, fruit, coffee, and juice. Does that work?”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  Liu began lifting stainless-steel lids, and the aromas quickly had my stomach growling. After she’d served herself and sat down, I spooned eggs, bacon, and fruit onto my plate and poured a cup of coffee.

  I carried it out onto the balcony where a breeze blew and made conversation a little difficult. The book editor had put on sunglasses. She smiled.

  “I really appreciate you coming, Dr. Cross.”

  “It’s my job,” I said as I took a seat opposite her. “But honestly, I’d appreciate you getting to the point. I’m missing time with my kids.”

  Liu’s smile faded a little and she busied herself with her napkin. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. Okay, where to begin?”

  “You said Tull threatened you after you found out something about him.”

  “Yes,” she said emphatically. “You can hear the threat for yourself. But let me tell you what made him so angry first.”

  “Okay,” I said, taking a bite of delicious scrambled eggs made with melted Boursin cheese.

  “Remember when I told you and Detective Sampson that there were things that seemed off during the writing of all three of his books?”

  “I do, but you gave no specifics.”

  “I admit I blocked the details from my mind because the books were doing so well,” Liu said, and she sipped from her cup.

  “And now you’ve recalled the details?”

  “And more from my old notes,” she said. “Did you know that Thomas was the one who first told the police that the accidental electrocutions of shop clerks around metro Boston might be the work of one murderer?”

  I blinked and shook my head. “That’s not the way it reads in the book. He said he and a detective with the Boston police came to that conclusion about the same time.”

  “I know it reads that way, but it turns out it’s not true. Jane Hale, the Boston detective, went to one of Thomas’s book signings when Electric hit the hardcover bestseller list. Hale comes across like a rock star in the book, and she was grateful for Thomas’s depiction. She’d not only become semi-famous; she’d received a big promotion after the killer was caught and convicted. But we all went out after the book signing and had many drinks to celebrate, and that’s when Hale told me that she’d had no idea the electrocutions were connected until Thomas brought the possibility to her attention.”

  That was a different story, and Tull’s revision did cause me to pause. “Why would he have done that?”

  “I asked Thomas that same question,” Liu said. “He said he remembered things differently. But then again, he was sleeping with Hale for most of the investigation.”

  “Is that true?”

  “It’s a fact,” she said. “She left her husband for Thomas and they were together for almost a year after the book came out. But by then he was in Germany, working on Noon in Berlin and sleeping with Inspector Ava Firsching of the Berlin criminal police.”

  I frowned. “He didn’t mention that relationship in the parts I read.”

  “He doesn’t talk about his relationships with female detectives in any of the books,” Liu said. “And I didn’t find out about Inspector Firsching until I was over there for the German-language launch of Noon. You’ll never guess what else the inspector told me.”

  Chapter

  34

  I was listening closely by that point. I pulled out a notepad and began jotting down some of her assertions. “It would help if you just laid it out.”

  Liu seemed irritated. She took off her sunglasses, looked straight at me, and said, “Did you know Thomas speaks perfect German? His mother was from Munich and he spent many of his summers at a lake in Bavaria.”

  “I don’t remember that from the book.”

  “Because it’s not mentioned,” she said. “He portrays himself as being out of the loop half the time because of the language barrier.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Exactly. I asked and he said it made him more sympathetic, as lost in the investigation as the reader.”

  I said, “It’s odd, but not a crime.”

  “There are other inconsistencies, Dr. Cross,” she said. “In Noon, for example, Thomas depicts Inspector Firsching as the one who comes up with the idea of focusing on Berlin Zoo employees because the initial victims were all killed with darts loaded with animal tranquilizer.”

  “I remember that.”

  “Except that’s not exactly correct,” Liu said. “Ava told me she and Thomas were sleeping together by that point and he was the one who came up with the logic of focusing on the zookeepers.”

  I held up my hands. “I apologize because I’ve read only the first hundred pages. Was the zoo really involved?”

  “Ultimately, yes. But Firsching did not find that damning evidence until very late in the investigation, after she’d dropped the zoo angle and taken the probe in a different direction, arresting two suspects only to release them.”

  “I’ll bite. Who ended up being the killer?”

  “A large-animal veterinarian who was an outside contractor. He came to the zoo occasionally to treat elephants, rhinos, and the like. The vet’s wife had cheated on him with various men over the years, all during the noon hour. When she divorced him and took half his money, he got obsessive and then turned homicidal.”

  Liu put her sunglasses on again and said that in the book, Tull claimed he was only tangentially involved in the big break in the Noon case. But Firsching told her that it was Tull’s idea to focus on the zoo again, not on staff but on the vendors and consultants.

  “Do you see the pattern?” she asked. “Thomas underplays his role when in truth he has a great deal of influence over these investigations.”

  “And the investigators,” I said.

  “Exactly,” she said.

  “What about the third book? I haven’t gotten to it. Female investigator?”

  “Heidi Parks with the South Carolina State Bureau of Investigation,” Liu said. “She and Thomas were shacking up within a week of his arrival on the scene, which was shortly after the body of the second doctor was found. Again, I think he downplays his role in the book and gives all the light and praise to Parks.”

  “You think?”

  “Okay, I have strong suspicions based on the way Detective Parks reacted when I called her yesterday and asked several pointed questions about that investigation. She got quite hostile, so hostile she called Thomas and told him what I was up to.”

  “Which led to the threat?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Are you finished with breakfast? With this wind, you’ll be able to hear what he said better inside.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I said, putting my napkin on the table and standing up in the stiffening breeze. “Let’s go hear it.”

  We left the dishes on the table and went inside. Liu crossed to the suite’s bar and retrieved her phone.

  As she did, I looked around, seeing through the open bedroom door two of the hotel’s robes lying on the bed.

  “It’s a little garbled,” Liu said, returning. “And I didn’t start recording until Thomas turned abusive. But you’ll get the gist of it.”

  The book editor pushed a button and there was a static hiss through which a male said, “Suzanne, what the hell are you doing? Are you trying to gut me? Get revenge? Grow up! You lost out after making big money off me for years. Live with it and don’t be a crazy bitch. I’m telling you, I won’t take this lying down. If you keep trying to smear me, Suzanne, you’ll pay for it. One way or another, you will pay for it.”

  Liu turned it off. “Believe me now?”

  Tull had not suggested he’d physically harm her, but the tone was threatening. “I do.”

  Without warning, the book editor threw her arms around me. “Thank you, Dr. Cross,” she said. “I’ve been so alone, so in my head, I needed someone to believe me, and here you are.”

  I was uncomfortable at that point. It got even more creepy when she tried to kiss me.

  “Whoa, whoa,” I said, backing up and extricating myself from her arms. “What’s this all about? I’m married. See the ring?”

  Liu looked a little angry, then chagrined, and she blushed and turned away. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. I…I sometimes misinterpret things, and like I said, I’ve been so lonely and in my head. I honestly don’t know why I did that.”

  “I don’t know either, and I think it is time I leave.”

  As I turned to go, she said frantically, “You won’t look into what I’ve told you?”