“This is Eve’s car parked in front of Christy’s,” he said. “But who is this?” He angled the picture toward the light. It was a man, hunched over near the hubcap.

“That’s Carleton,” Micki said. “I’d recognize those Bruno Maglis anywhere.”

“Is it always the shoes, Micki?” Abbott asked, exasperated.

“Christy’s shoes might be important,” she insisted stubbornly, “no matter what Dr. Pierce said. Noah, are you okay?”

Noah had brought the picture to an inch from his eyes, still squinting. “Is this still on the memory card of Farmer’s camera?”

“Yes.” She began scrolling back through the pictures Farmer had taken. “Why?”

Noah could feel each beat of his heart. “Just enlarge it. I want to see his hand.”

Noah took the camera, willing his hands not to shake. “He has a ring like mine.”

“So?” Abbott said. “He showed us his ring yesterday.”

“Those are Eve’s keys in his hand. Somebody stole Eve’s keys that night.”

Abbott frowned. “You can’t be serious, Noah.”

“Eve dropped her keys. Micki, you said CSU combed the area and didn’t find them.”

Abbott still shook his head. “Assuming those are her keys, just because he took them doesn’t mean anything.”

“They’re hers,” Noah said stubbornly. “When we were searching for her keys, she said she had a police whistle on her key ring, and there it is. Somebody broke into her apartment that night while she was here, with us, but there was no sign of forced entry, because he used her keys. Later that night I changed her lock, and a few hours later that person came back. We assumed it was Buckland.”

“You mean Dell,” Abbott corrected.

“Whatever. Listen to me. When I got to the Bolyards’ last night, my first thought was how did someone know to kill them? Could it have been one of us?”

“That’s absurd. Bolyard confronted Don…” Abbott’s voice trailed. “He never talked to Donner. Donner was being set up. Whoever made that call to the TV news, lied.”

“Exactly. Bolyard might have told someone else, but the only person that would benefit from their murder was the one he’d seen in the coffee house. It wasn’t Donner. Also, Pierce was at Christy’s scene Monday night because he was here when I got Eve’s call. He was at Virginia Fox’s this morning, but he wasn’t here when Natalie called. How did he know to come to Virginia’s house? Did you call him, Bruce?”

Abbott slowly shook his head. “I thought you did.”

Micki and Kane were shaking their heads as well. “Liv didn’t,” Kane said. “We were together until I…” He swallowed. “Until I took Eve to the garage.”

Noah nodded grimly. “So none of us called him and Virginia’s name wasn’t on the list. But he knew we’d go there. Sonofabitch wanted to watch us.”

“I can’t believe this,” Abbott said. “It is too incredible. I’ve known Carleton Pierce for years. Years.”

Noah leaned in close. “Think about it, Bruce. He was there at Virginia’s when you said Kane was taking Eve to the safe house. Then he was gone. Twenty minutes later, Eve is gone.”

Abbott pursed his lips. “He was more upset about Donner’s suicide than Virginia Fox’s murder. He set Donner up, but didn’t know he’d killed himself.”

Kane went still. “Right before he hit me, Eve and I were talking about her study. She said Donner had appointed an independent third-party counselor in case anyone in the study became unstable or suicidal. She didn’t know who that was. I’d just asked her if that person would have access to the subject list.”

Abbott’s jaw twitched. “Donner knew. Who else would know?”

“Jeremy Lyons,” Noah said. “But he’s missing. Where is he? Did we get his LUDs?”

Abbott riffled through the papers on his desk. “Yeah. Faye gave them to me before my meeting with the brass, but we rushed to Donner’s.” He handed the papers to Noah.

“These are home LUDs,” Noah said. “We asked for Jeremy’s cell, too.”

“Cover letter says no cells in his or his wife’s name,” Abbott said.

“They had pay-as-you-go phones,” Kane said. “Mrs. Lyons said they were counting pennies.”

Noah scanned their home LUDs and a number jumped out. “This is the same number that called Eve’s cell-twice. One was a text, the other a voicemail.”

“That number called the Lyonses’ home phone at least once a day up until Monday, right at 5:00 p.m.,” Abbott said, looking over Noah’s shoulder.

“When Lyons picked up his kid from day care,” Kane said. “That’s Jeremy’s cell.”

“What text and voicemail did he leave for Eve?” Micki asked.

“Rob Winters’s last words,” Noah murmured. “Eve’s worst fear. We thought it was Dell Farmer, but it was Jeremy Lyons.”

“It was Jeremy Lyons’s phone,” Kane corrected.

Noah looked at Kane. “You think Jeremy’s dead.”

Kane looked miserable, but he nodded. “He was a weasel to Eve, but everyone swore he loved his kid. He never picked her up on Tuesday and never called home.”

Noah stood up. “I’m going to his house. Pierce’s house.”

“And then what?” Abbott said. “A shoe next to Eve’s keys isn’t enough for a warrant.”

“I don’t care.” Noah grabbed his hat, but Abbott grabbed his arm.

“Sit down, Noah.” His voice was like a whip. “We’re not going to run off half-cocked. We’re going to call Ramsey, see what we need to get a warrant. In the meantime, Kane and Micki, go to Marshall, serve the warrant on Donner’s office, see if he mentions Pierce anywhere. A known association would get us a warrant for Pierce’s house and office. See if anybody saw Pierce with Donner. Take his picture in a six-pack of mugs.”

“I’m not going to just sit here,” Noah said. His voice trembled and he didn’t care.

“Yeah, you are. But we’ll call Donner’s wife. See if he had a calendar or diary. We’ll ask if she’s seen Pierce with him. We’ll follow the law. Mick, you drive. Kane still looks a little dazed. Call me when you find anything, even if it’s nothing. Go.”

Thursday, February 25, 1:05 p.m.

“That was good work,” Brian Ramsey said as the officer led a grumbling Damon to a cell. “I didn’t have to deal as low as I wanted and you got what you needed.”

Olivia looked at the license plate number Damon had provided. “I hope it’s legit.”

“Well-heeled gentlemen venturing to the wrong side of the tracks for tricks make good blackmail victims. Nobody wants their wives to know they’ve been trolling.”

“Thanks, Brian. I’m going to call this in, see who it belongs to.”

He put his briefcase back down. “Have to say I’m curious.” Then he rolled his eyes when his own cell rang. “I miss the days of bad reception.”

Olivia moved to one side of the room to give him privacy. “Hey, Faye, I’ve got a Wisconsin plate for you to run.”

“You need to get back here, girl,” Faye said. “It’s a zoo.”

Olivia straightened, her already queasy gut churning. “Why? Is it Jack? Eve?”

“No. No news there. They looked through those pictures and think it’s Dr. Pierce.”

Olivia sank back against the corner of the steel table. “What?”

“You heard me. Carleton Pierce. So give me the plate. I’ll run it.”

Stunned, Olivia did and felt the table shudder when Ramsey sat on his corner. She turned to find him looking at her, looking as poleaxed as she felt.

“It’s Abbott,” Ramsey said. “He wants us both in his office.”

Keeping her phone to her ear, Olivia made her feet move and was in the hall when Faye came back. “Got a name for you. Black, Irene, age sixty-two. The address is a PO box, Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Mean anything to you?”

“Yeah. It does.” Irene Black got around. “Give the info to Abbott. We’re coming.”

Ramsey glanced at her as they jogged to the exit. “Who does the SUV belong to?”

“Our Shadowland hunter.”

“So now we have an address?” he said, but she shook her head.

“A PO box. He’s done this before. It’s a shell game. I’ll meet you at Abbott’s.”