Last to Die (13 page)

Her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse, saw the Maine area code, and knew at once who was calling.

“Maura?” she answered.

“Dr. Welliver told me you got my message. It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Two more children just like Teddy Clock. What do you think?”

“I think we’ve got a situation here. Someone just came after Teddy.”

“
Again?
”

“The intruder actually got into the house. Luckily, I happened to be here.”

“Are you all right? Is the boy?”

“Everybody’s fine, but the perp took off. Now we’ve got to find a safer place to park the kid.”

“I know a safe place. And it’s right here.”

A male CSU tech came into the room, and Jane fell silent as he and Frost talked about fingerprints on the back door and windowsill. This attack had left her shaken and suspicious of everyone, even the professionals with whom she worked. If I wasn’t followed here, she thought, then someone must have leaked Teddy’s location. Someone who might be working the crime scene at this very moment.

She went into a bathroom and closed the door to continue the conversation. “Tell me your situation there,” she said. “Is it secure?”

“It’s isolated. There’s one road in, and it’s gated. They have motion sensors along the road.”

“Your surroundings?”

“Thirty thousand acres of private woodland. Theoretically someone could hike in, but then he’d have to get into the building itself. The door’s massive, with a security keypad. All the windows are well above ground level. Plus, there’s the staff.”

“A bunch of schoolteachers? Oh yeah, that’s reassuring.”

“They have a forester protecting the property and he’s armed. The school’s self-contained and has its own farm and generator.”

“Still, we’re talking teachers. Not bodyguards.”

“Jane, they’re all members of the Mephisto Society.”

That made Jane pause. Anthony Sansone’s bizarre little group kept track of violent crimes around the world, searching the data for patterns, seeking evidence that evil was real. That humanity itself was under attack. “You never told me they operated the school.”

“I didn’t know that until I got here.”

“They’re conspiracy theorists. They see monsters under every rock.”

“Maybe this time they have a point.”

“Don’t get biblical on me. Not you, please.”

“I’m not talking about demons. There
is
something going on here that we can’t explain, something that connects these children. The school psychologist refuses to share the details because of patient confidentiality. But Lily Saul told me enough about Claire and Will to convince me there’s a pattern here. And Evensong may be the one place these three children are safe.”

“A school operated by a paranoid organization.”

“Which makes them the perfect guardians. They chose this remote site because they can defend it.”

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Rizzoli?” called Frost. “The social worker’s here to take the boy.”

“Don’t let anyone take him!”

“What do I tell her?”

“Hold on, I’ll be out in a minute.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Maura, I’m not sure I trust Sansone and his crowd.”

“He’s never failed to come through for us, you know that. And these people certainly have more resources than Boston PD could ever scrape together.”

And there’d be no information leaks, thought Jane. No better place to keep a boy hidden from the world.

“How do I get there?” she asked.

“It’s not easy to find. I’ll have to email you the directions.”

“Do it. I’ll talk to you later.” She disconnected and walked out of the bathroom.

In the living room, the social worker stood waiting with Frost. “Detective Rizzoli,” she said, “we’ve arranged another placement for—”

“I’ve made alternative arrangements for Teddy,” Jane said.

The social worker frowned. “But I thought we were going to place him.”

“Teddy may have been the target tonight. Which means there could be more attacks. You don’t want another foster family killed, do you?”

The woman lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh God. Do you really think …”

“Exactly.” Jane looked at Frost. “Can you make sure the Inigos have a safe place to go tonight? I’m going to take Teddy.”

“Where?”

“I’ll call you later. I’m going upstairs to pack a bag for him. Then he and I are getting out of Dodge.”

“You have to give me an idea, at least.”

She glanced at the social worker, who was watching them, her jaw agape. “The fewer people who know, the safer it will be,” she said.
For both of us
.

Jane drove north into the dawn with one eye on the rearview mirror. In the backseat, Teddy slept through the entire journey. They’d stopped at her apartment just long enough for her to throw some clothes and toiletries into an overnight bag, and then they were on the road. Gabriel had wanted her to get a good night’s sleep first, to wait until daylight to leave, but she was anxious to get Teddy out of Boston.

And she sure as hell wouldn’t let him stay in her home or anywhere near her own family. She’d seen what happened to families who sheltered Teddy. Death seemed to walk in the boy’s footsteps, scythe swinging and hacking at whoever happened to be nearby. She did not want that bloody scythe harvesting the two people she loved most.

So she’d bundled the boy back into the car, threw her bag in the trunk, and by one thirty in the morning they were headed north out of Boston. Away from her family.

At that early hour, traffic was light, and she spied only a few headlights following her. She kept track of their progress. Just beyond the town of Saugus, the pair of sleek blue halogens peeled off. Twenty-five miles later, so did the lights belonging to the SUV. By the time she drove over the Kittery bridge into Maine, it was nearly three
AM
and she saw no headlights at all behind her, but she never stopped glancing in the mirror, never stopped scanning for a pursuer.

The killer was there, in the house
. She’d seen his shoeprint downstairs, knew that he’d walked throughout the first floor, yet she hadn’t caught even a glimpse of his shadow as she’d watched from the top of the steps. How long had she crouched, waiting for him to appear on the stairway? When adrenaline is flooding your veins, when you’re about to face your own death, a mere sixty seconds can seem like a lifetime. She was certain it had been five minutes, maybe longer. Certainly time enough for him to search the first floor, to turn his attention to the second. Yet he hadn’t. What stopped him? Did he sense that a cop was waiting at the top of the
stairs
? Did he realize that the odds had turned against him, that a simple execution had now become a battle with an equally lethal opponent?

She glanced over her shoulder at the boy. Teddy was curled up, skinny arms and legs tightly folded around himself like an embryo. He slept deeply, as most children do, showing no sign that tonight’s terror had invaded his dreams.

When the sun came up, rising through a receding bank of clouds, she was still behind the wheel. She opened the window and smelled damp earth, saw sun-warmed steam rising from the pavement. She stopped only once for gas and coffee and a bathroom break. Teddy slept through it all.

Even with that jolt of caffeine, she had to fight to stay awake, to stay focused on that final stretch of road. She was so exhausted she forgot to call ahead, as Maura had advised her. By the time she remembered to pull out her phone, the cell signal was down to zero bars, and she had no way to alert the school that she’d arrived.

It didn’t matter; someone was already waiting for her at the locked gate. The bear-sized man who stood blocking the entrance cut a forbidding figure in his faded jeans and hiking boots. Dangling from his leather belt was an enormous hunting knife, its lethal serrations glittering in the morning sun. She rolled to a stop right in front of him, yet he didn’t flinch, didn’t step aside, but stood with arms crossed, as immovable as a mountain.

“State your business, ma’am,” he said.

She frowned at the compound bow and quiver of arrows that were slung over his shoulder, and wondered if she’d made a wrong turn somewhere. If she’d wandered into dueling-banjos territory. Then she glanced up at the wrought-iron archway and saw the word
EVENSONG
.

“I’m Detective Jane Rizzoli. The school is expecting me.”

He stalked over to the passenger window and stared in at the sleeping boy. “This is young Mr. Clock?”

“Yes. I’m bringing him to the school.”

In the backseat, Teddy finally stirred awake, and when he saw the wild man peering in at him, he gave a yelp of alarm.

“It’s all right, son.” The voice was surprisingly gentle, coming from such a fierce-looking man. “My name’s Roman. I’m the school forester. I look after these here woods, and I’ll look after you, too.”

“Is that
Mr
. Roman?” asked Jane.

“Just Roman’s good enough,” he grunted and swung open the gate. “Three miles in, you’ll get to the lake. The castle’s just beyond. They’re expecting you.” He waved her through. “Go slow. Don’t hit the bear.”

She assumed he meant Bear the dog, who belonged to Julian Perkins. But a hundred yards down the road, she rounded a bend in the woods and skidded to an abrupt stop as a black bear—a
real
bear—sauntered across the road, followed by her two cubs, their fur bright and glossy in the sunlight.

“What is this place?” Teddy murmured in wonder.

“It sure ain’t the big city.” She watched the trio disappear into the woods. “I can see the headline now,” she muttered: “
BOSTON COP EATEN BY BEARS
.”

“They don’t eat people.”

“You know that, do you?”

“Black bears are mostly vegetarian.”

“Mostly?”

“Mostly.”

“
That
is not reassuring.” She drove on, wondering what other surprises might pop out of the woods. Wolves. Cougars. Unicorns. In this wild place with its impenetrable forest, it seemed that anything might appear.

In the backseat, Teddy was now alert and staring out the window, as if everything outside was fascinating. Maybe here, deep in the forest, was exactly where the boy should be. This was the first time she’d heard him say more than two spontaneous sentences.

“Will there be other kids here?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s a school.”

“But it’s summertime. Aren’t they all on vacation?”

“It’s a boarding school. Some of the kids stay year-round.”

“Don’t they have families to go to?”

She hesitated. “Not all of them.”

“So this is where they live all the time?”

She glanced over her shoulder, but he wasn’t looking at her; he was focused instead on the thick curtain of greenery outside his window. “This seems like a pretty nice place to me,” she said. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” he said. And added softly: “I don’t think he can find me here.”

CLAIRE WAS THE
first to spot the arrival of the new boy. From the stairwell window, she watched the hatchback drive under the school’s stone arch and roll to a stop in the courtyard. The driver climbed out, a compact woman with unruly dark hair, dressed in blue jeans and a windbreaker. She stood and stretched, as if she’d been driving for a long time, then walked around to the back of the car and pulled out two small suitcases.

The rear passenger door swung open and someone else climbed out of the car: a boy.

Claire pressed up against the glass to study him, and she saw an egg-shaped head with light brown hair topped by a wisp of a cowlick. He reminded her of Pinocchio, all stick arms and legs moving in mechanical jerks and stops. He squinted up at the building, and his face was so pale that Claire thought: That’s what a vampire must look like. Or someone who’s been shut away too long in a cellar.

“Hey look. It’s the Night Crawler.”

Claire’s back stiffened at the too-familiar insult. She turned to see Briana and her two snooty girlfriends come sweeping down the
staircase
on their way to breakfast. These three were the golden girls, the princess posse with glossy hair and perfect teeth.

“What’s so interesting out there?” one of the princesses asked.

“Maybe she’s looking for a new place to hunt for grubs tonight.”

“Hey, Briana. Look,” one of the princesses said. “There’s the new kid we heard about.”

The three girls pushed Claire aside and crowded forward to stare through the window.

“
He’s
fourteen?” said Briana.

“You heard about him?” asked Claire.

Briana ignored her. “What a stick boy. He looks like he’s about ten.”

In the courtyard below, Headmaster Baum and Dr. Isles came out of the building to welcome the new arrivals. From the way the two women greeted each other, it was clear they were already acquainted.

“He looks like an insect,” one of the princesses said. “Like some creepy praying mantis.”

Briana laughed and looked at Claire. “Hey, Night Crawler. It sounds like your new boyfriend just arrived.”