Tess Gerritsen - The Mephisto Club

“Dominic’s mother didn’t write that,” said Jane.

“What is it?” asked Edwina.

“It’s a letter withdrawing fifteen-year-old Dominic from the Putnam Academy boarding school in Connecticut. It was supposedly written by his mother, Margaret Saul.”

“Supposedly?”

“Margaret Saul didn’t write that letter.” Jane looked at Lily. “You did.”

Lily gave a laugh. “Do I look old enough to be his mother?”

Jane placed the notebook on the table now, open to the page with the quote from Revelation. “You wrote that passage for me tonight, Lily. We know it’s your handwriting.” She pointed back to the letter. “So is that.”

Silence. Lily’s mouth had tightened to two thin lines.

“That summer, when you were sixteen, your cousin Dominic wanted to vanish,” said Jane. “After the things he did in Purity, maybe he needed to vanish.” Her eyes narrowed on Lily. “And you helped him. You told everyone a convenient cover story: that his mother suddenly came to town to fetch him. That they left the country. But it was a lie, wasn’t it? Margaret Saul never came to get her son. She never showed up at all. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t need to answer you,” said Lily. “I know my rights.”

“Where is he? Where is Dominic?”

“When you find him, let me know.” Lily shoved back her chair and stood up.

“What went on between you two that summer?”

“I’m going to bed.” Lily turned and started out of the dining room.

“Did he do all your dirty work for you? Is that why you’re protecting him?”

Lily stopped. Slowly, she turned, and her eyes were as dangerous as radium.

“When your parents died, you came into a nice little inheritance,” said Jane.

“I inherited a house that no one will ever buy. And a bank account that paid for my college education, but not much more.”

“Did you get on with your parents, Lily? Did you have arguments?”

“If you think I’d ever-”

“All teenagers do. But maybe your fights went a little further. Maybe you couldn’t wait to get out of that dead little town and get on with your life. Then your cousin moves in for the summer and he gives you ideas, ways to make your escape happen a little easier, a little quicker.”

“You have no idea what happened!”

“Then tell me. Tell me why you were the one to find Teddy’s body in the lake, why you were the one who found your mother at the bottom of the stairs.”

“I’d never hurt them. If I’d known-”

“Were you lovers? You and Dominic?”

Lily’s face went white with rage. For one knife-edged moment, Jane thought the woman might actually lunge at her.

A loud ringing suddenly cut through the silence. Everyone glanced at Sansone.

“It’s our intruder alert,” he said, and rose to his feet. He crossed to a control panel on the wall. “There’s a breach in the garden window.”

“Someone’s in the house?” asked Jane.

Lily said softly, “It’s him.”

Jeremy came into the dining room. “I just checked, Mr. Sansone. The window’s locked.”

“Then maybe it’s just a malfunction.” Sansone looked at the others. “I think it’d be best if you all stayed right here for the moment, while I check the system.”

“No,” said Lily, her gaze darting from doorway to doorway, as though expecting an attacker to suddenly burst through. “I’m not staying. Not in this house.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe. We’ll protect you.”

“And who’s going to protect you? ” She looked around the room at Maura, Edwina, and Oliver. “Any of you? You don’t even know what you’re dealing with!”

“Look, everyone just sit tight, okay?” said Jane. “I’ll go outside and take a look around.”

Sansone said, “I’ll come with you.”

Jane paused, on the verge of refusing his offer. Then she thought of Eve Kassovitz, dragged bleeding across the icy walkway, her weapon still strapped to her waist. “All right,” she said to him. “Let’s go.”

They pulled on their coats and stepped outside. Beneath streetlamps, pools of light glistened with ice. It was a frozen world, every surface polished and gleaming like glass. Even if an intruder had walked this way, they’d see no footprints tonight. Her Maglite beam skimmed across pavement hard as diamonds. She and Sansone circled around to the iron gate and stepped through, into the narrow side yard. This was where the killer had brought down Eve Kassovitz. Along this path, he’d dragged her body, the blood from her torn scalp smearing across the granite pavers, freezing in streaks of red.

Jane’s weapon was already out of her holster, the gun an extension of her own body, magically materializing in her grasp. She moved toward the back garden, her light slashing the shadows, the soles of her shoes skating on ice. Her beam swept across winter-shriveled wisps of ivy. She knew Sansone was right behind her, but he moved so silently she had to pause and glance over her shoulder, just to confirm that he was really there, that he was watching her back.

She edged toward the corner of the building and swept her Maglite across the enclosed garden, across the courtyard where, only a few weeks ago, Eve had lain, her muscles stiffening, her blood freezing on the cold stones. Jane saw no movement, no hulking shadows, no demon in a black cape.

“That’s the window?” she asked. She aimed her beam and saw light bounce back in the glass. “The one your system says was breached?”

“Yes.”

She crossed the courtyard for a closer look. “No screen?”

“Jeremy takes them down for the winter.”

“And it’s always kept latched on the inside?”

“Always. Security is of paramount concern to us.”

She ran the light along the sill and spotted the telltale gouge in the wood. Fresh.

“We’ve got a problem here,” she said softly. “Someone tried to force this.”

He stared at the sill. “That wouldn’t have set off the alarm. The only way to do that is to actually open the window.”

“But your butler says it’s locked on the inside.”

“That means…” Sansone stopped. “Jesus.”

“What?”

“He got in and relatched it. He’s already inside the house!” Sansone turned and ran back along the side yard, moving so fast his shoes skidded across the walkway. He almost fell but caught himself and kept running. By the time Jane came through the front door, he was already in the dining room, urging everyone to their feet.

“Please get your coats,” he said. “I need you all to leave the house. Jeremy, I’ll help Oliver down the steps, if you could bring the wheelchair.”

“What on earth is going on?” asked Edwina.

“Just do it, okay?” ordered Jane. “Grab your coats and go out the front door.”

It was Jane’s weapon that caught their attention, the fact it was out of her holster and in her hands, a detail that screamed: This isn’t a game; this is serious.

Lily was the first to bolt. She darted from the room, leading the rush into the parlor, the scramble for coats. As everyone spilled out the front door and into the cold, Jane was right behind them, already on her phone and calling for backup. She might be armed, but she wasn’t foolhardy; she had no intention of searching that entire house by herself.

Moments later, the first cruiser appeared, its lights flashing but the siren silent. It skidded to a stop and two patrolmen stepped out.

“I need a perimeter,” ordered Jane. “No one gets out of that building.”

“Who’s inside?”

“We’re about to find out.” She looked up as the headlights of a second cruiser approached. Two more cops arrived on the scene. “You,” she said, and pointed to one of the younger patrolmen. Tonight she wanted fast reflexes and a sharp eye. “Come with me.”