“We’ll continue to investigate every lead.” Joe’s standard response told Leon everything he needed to know. The police had nothing.
He wasn’t blaming them for that. It was just a fact. They were no closer to finding the killer than they had been when he and Flora walked into Joy Valeski’s kitchen and found her lying in a pool of her own blood. The leads they had followed so far—Luella French, Alan Grayson, and Vivien McAuley—had all proved false. The real killer was still out there, and he, or she, wasn’t going to stop.
“Be careful.” Joe was clearly thinking the same thing.
“We will.” Leon’s voice was grim as he gripped Flora’s hand.
When Joe had gone, Leon took hold of Flora’s shoulders. He didn’t need to ask if she was okay. One look was enough to tell him she wasn’t. She pressed her face to his chest, unable to halt the storm of tears that gripped her. Murmuring words of comfort, he held her until she was wrung out and hung limp in his arms.
After a minute Flora straightened. “Do I look horrible?” Her eyes were red, her face was blotchy, and the words were accompanied by a sniff.
“You look beautiful.”
“If you really believe that, you should get an eye test.” She gave a watery chuckle. “I need to go to the restroom and splash some water on my face before I go back into the hall.”
“I’ll wait here.” He watched her walk away, astounded by the strength that she continued to demonstrate throughout this nightmare. Despite the horrors that were thrown her way, she met every challenge head-on. No wonder those twins of hers were little fighters. They had courage stamped into their DNA.
When Flora returned, her appearance had improved. Only close scrutiny would detect signs of recent tears.
“Let’s get the boys and go home,” Leon said, and she nodded gratefully.
They had to push their way through the crowd to get to the refreshment booth. Although Beth and Steffi had managed to get a kids table for Lia and the twins, the adults were forced to stand nearby. Bryce and Vincente had joined them and were showing off their medals.
“Is everything okay?” Cameron asked.
“No.” Leon quickly filled him in on the details of their conversation with Joe Nolan.
“Two members of staff are dead, and one has been attacked. With the threats to you as well, maybe we do have to think about taking more serious measures,” Cameron said to Flora. “I’ll call in at the Ryerson Center tomorrow.”
Even though the hall was noisy, their attention was claimed by Lia, who started crying loudly. “I want pie.”
Beth knelt at the table to comfort her. “You have cookies and juice.”
“I want pie.” Lia pointed to Frankie’s plate. Unlike Lia and Stevie, Frankie had a neat slice of pie on his plastic plate next to his half-eaten cookie.
Beth looked up at her companions with a frown. “Where did Frankie get this pie from?”
Leon moved fast. Snatching up a napkin from a nearby table, he grabbed the piece of pie from Frankie’s plate and wrapped it up.
“Did you eat any pie?” he asked Frankie.
“N-no.” The little boy looked up at Flora for reassurance.
“It’s okay, sweetie.” She came to kneel beside the table, placing an arm around each twin. “Did you see who gave you the pie?” They both shook their heads, and Flora looked up at the group of adults. “Did anyone see anything?”
“Sorry.” Vincente spoke for all of them. “There are so many people around.”
Leon was examining the piece of pie, his blood running cold as he realized what he was looking at. “The cherry filling is crammed with small pieces of broken glass.”
Flora shivered as she looked around at the throng of people. “He’s here.”
“He could be anyone.” Leon clenched a fist against his thigh.
Thankfully, they had thwarted a deliberate cowardly attempt to harm an innocent child. Someone must have been watching and waiting to seize a chance to leave that tainted pie on Frankie’s plate. It was carefully planned. Who could be capable of such evil?
If he could find the answer to that question, he would know it all.
They drove home in near silence, even the twins picking up on the somber mood. It was only as they pulled up at the front of the house that Frankie spoke.
“Don’t like pie.” His voice was subdued, unlike his usual robust self.
As Flora choked back a sob, Leon placed a hand on her knee. After a moment or two, she nodded, signaling that she was okay.
“Some pie can be nice,” he said, maintaining a calm tone as he answered Frankie. “How about we try making some together at the weekend? What kind would you like to make?”
“’anana,” Frankie said.
“Choclit.” Stevie put forward his own favorite flavor.
“Banana and chocolate pie, it is.” Leon smiled at Flora, pleased to see some of the panic leaving her. “I may need to take a few tips from Bryce.”
“How about ‘never cook with three-year-olds’? That would be my tip.” Flora managed a faint smile before she climbed out of the car.
When they got inside the house, there was no time for conversation. Tiny’s greetings were always insanely over-the-top, but, on this occasion, he clearly sensed that something more was needed and stepped up a gear. The lunging, whining, and spinning reached new, and dangerous, levels.
Leon and Flora had to scoop the twins up to protect them from the flailing paws, tail, and tongue. Once Leon opened the door and ushered Tiny outside, peace was restored. He was pleased to see that the twins were laughing.
“I’m glad someone finds living with an out-of-control greeter entertaining.” He reached out a hand to Flora. “It’s been quite a day.”
“When do we have any other kind?” She returned the pressure of his fingers. “I’ll get these two into bed while you call Detective Nolan.”
Joe Nolan’s shock was obvious as he listened to the details of the incident. “Could
