what I’m doing. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“You say you do.”
“Sean-”
“Look, I’m not going to do something stupid. You agreed that I’d be a partner by the time I was twenty-five, and I only have eighteen months to go. Or was that just talk to keep me in line?”
“You know it wasn’t-”
“Then let me do this my way. I know what you need. If any of Cole’s people are involved, I’ll find out who and give you the information.”
Duke had to let go. It was hard. He didn’t know if it would be any harder if Sean was his son instead of his brother. But Duke, fifteen years older, had always been protective of Sean. And after their parents died, Duke had raised him while their older brother Kane continued to fight other people’s wars. Duke hadn’t always done a great job-he pushed Sean hard and was often critical-but he was proud of his younger brother.
Duke said, “I already called the admissions director, he’s expecting you.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Someone you know?”
“An old friend.”
“Why am I not surprised you know just the right person to get me inside?”
“He might suspect I have another reason wanting you here, but I told him there was a glitch with your diploma from MIT and you need a social science requirement you’d missed as an undergrad. It happens that Professor Cole’s class fits the bill. He didn’t asked questions. By the time he gets your files from MIT, you’ll be out of here.”
Sean shook his head with a half grin. “And you think I break the rules.”
“I’m bending them.” He added, “The only thing, you might want to tone down your background.”
“In what?”
“Having two bachelor of science degrees and graduating from MIT might be a tip-off that you aren’t a liberal-arts major.”
“Got it.” He glanced toward the building, but Duke saw his mind working.
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
“Nothing. Trust me, I can blend in, no problem.”
“One of them could be a killer. Don’t get cocky.”
He grinned and winked. “No cockier than the average Rogan.”
CHAPTER FOUR
While Quin continued to work her magic at the crime scene, and the M.E. moved the body to the morgue, Nora drove with her partner Pete Antonovich to the town house of Melanie Duncan, Jonah Payne’s head research assistant.
“You were right,” Pete said as he parallel-parked down the street from Duncan’s residence. “The water pump was sabotaged, and whoever did it knew
“And I’m guessing no fingerprints or tools left around to identify the culprit,” she said.
“The sheriff’s forensic unit is printing and documenting the scene, but I don’t think they’ll find anything. The arsonists also blocked the camera.”
“How?”
“Simple. Put on a mask and tape a piece of cardboard to the camera lens.”
“You’d think,” Nora said, “that in the twenty-first century we’d find a better way of surveilling remote locations.”
“There is,” Pete said as he knocked on Duncan’s door. “But city government is behind the curve.”
Melanie Duncan came to the door in a robe, her wet, dark red hair dripping down her back. Other than the simple black-framed glasses over bright blue eyes, Duncan was completely antithetical to Nora’s image of what a female researcher should look like. She was tall, voluptuous, and attractive.
“It says no solicitors,” Duncan snapped when she opened the door.
Nora showed her badge. “Special Agent Nora English. My partner, Pete Antonovich, FBI. Melanie Duncan, correct?”
She frowned, a typical expression when confronted by government agents.
“What do you want?”
“May we come in?”
“What do you want?” she repeated, not opening the door any wider.
“There was a fire at Butcher-Payne,” Nora said. She watched Duncan carefully. First reactions were the most difficult to fake, except for the most accomplished pathological liars.
“A fire?” She sounded skeptical, her brows drawing together. “Why are you here? The-” She glanced at Pete, then back at Nora. “The FBI?”
“Ms. Duncan-”
“Dr. Duncan,” she replied automatically. She stepped away from the door, and Nora and Pete entered. “I need to call Dr. Payne,” Duncan said. “I don’t see why you didn’t call him, or why the FBI is involved with a fire. Our lab isn’t a government facility. We have a grant, but-”
“Dr. Duncan, why don’t you have a seat?”
She remained standing, door open. Nora pushed it closed. “Jonah Payne died in the fire.”
She blinked. “Died.” Her voice was flat. “A fire at Butcher-Payne? No, that’s not possible-he’s in Tahoe.”
Nora raised her brow and glanced at Pete. Pete said, “I spoke with Jim Butcher this morning. He didn’t tell us Dr. Payne was supposed to be in Lake Tahoe.”
“Jim? Jim’s in L.A.” She rubbed her forehead and walked over to the adjoining kitchen, where she poured herself a cup of coffee. Her hands shook, Nora noted, and she was clearly dazed. Possibly a very good actress, though Nora didn’t think Dr. Duncan was acting.
“Dr. Payne’s body was found in his office. The fire started at approximately one-thirty this morning.”
“Jonah is in Lake Tahoe,” she repeated emphatically. “He went up there Saturday afternoon. He’s driving back right now.” She picked up her cell phone, which was charging on a small secretary desk in the makeshift dining area.
“Dr.-” Pete began, but Nora put her hand on his arm and shook her head once.
It was clear after a few seconds that voice mail had picked up. With a catch in her throat, Duncan said into the phone, “Jonah, it’s Mel. Can you call me, please? It’s important.” She slowly closed her phone. “He’s coming back this morning. We have a ten a.m. staff meeting.”
“Why did he go to Tahoe?” Nora asked.
“He goes the last weekend of every month,” she said.
“Every month?”
“As long as I’ve been working for him. He has a cabin. It helps him think. He works seven days a week …” Her voice trailed off. “Are you certain? I mean, if there was a fire, maybe it’s not Jonah.” Her voice cracked.
“Duke Rogan, security consultant, identified the body, which was discovered in Dr. Payne’s office.”
The scientist sat heavily in a chair. Her bottom lip quivered and she bit it. Tears welled in her eyes but didn’t spill over.
Nora glanced at her watch. It was just after eight in the morning. Gently, she asked, “When did you last talk to Dr. Payne?”
“Friday when I left work. It was after seven. Told him to enjoy his weekend …” Her voice cracked again, and she looked at the wall beyond Nora.
“Do you have the address for his cabin?”
