Cutting Edge

answers tonight. And”-She glanced from Sean to Duke. -“your backgrounders on Butcher-Payne staff were extensive.”

“The Butcher-Payne employees agreed when they applied to provide us with Social Security numbers and other vital statistics. With those, I was able to go deeper.”

“What I want is basic, but I’m looking for any further connection between these three and Leif Cole, and anyone at Butcher-Payne. Specifically look at Payne himself and his son, Trevor.”

Duke was stunned. “Why Trevor? You don’t think he’s-”

She shook her head and interrupted, “Of course not, but he’s twenty and college age, even though he’s in the military. Maybe one of these kids went to high school with him. Maybe they played on the same Little League team. I don’t know, but it’s just bugging the hell out of me that these kids killed themselves when they didn’t have a good reason. We weren’t investigating them!”

“But you were investigating Cole,” Duke pointed out. “Maybe Anya Ballard was trying to protect him.”

“I wasn’t officially investigating Cole,” Nora corrected. “I just suspected that he knew more than he was saying.”

“Sounds like splitting hairs to me.”

“I pushed him, Duke. I didn’t let him off. But I didn’t have one teeny shred of evidence to tie him to any of the arsons. And the only thing that’s tying him to Butcher-Payne is his academic tit-for-tat exchanges with Dr. Payne.”

“People have killed for less,” Duke said. “And you have one more connection. His relationship with Anya Ballard.”

Nora rubbed her eyes. Duke tapped her chin up. “Hey, don’t fall asleep during the interrogation.”

“I’m not tired. I’m frustrated. This seems too convenient.”

Sean said bluntly, “I don’t think Anya killed herself.”

Nora turned to the younger Rogan. “Why?”

“Sean,” Duke said, “the evidence seems clear. It should be relatively easy to match the materials found in her room with the evidence at the crime scenes.”

“I didn’t say Anya wasn’t an arsonist. I don’t know about that.” He frowned and glanced back toward the dormitory still rife with police activity. “I just don’t think Anya could slit anyone’s throat. She didn’t seem violent.”

“Sometimes,” Duke said, “people are not who they appear to be.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” Sean said. “I’m giving you my opinion based on spending an hour with her yesterday. Did you meet her?”

Duke was surprised at Sean’s retort. “I didn’t mean to talk down to you. I was stating a fact.” Maybe he stated the obvious too often with Sean. He didn’t realize it bothered his brother.

Nora said, “I don’t think we can make a determination one way or the other regarding who killed Larkin or whether those three kids killed themselves or-” She cut herself off.

“Or what?”

“Or they were murdered.”

She turned to Sean again. “I want your honest opinion, Sean. When you saw Anya last night and heard the third voice, how certain are you that it was a girl?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, he was clearly reviewing the exchange. “Eighty percent,” he said finally.

“That’s good enough for me,” Nora said. She punched numbers on her cell phone. “Ted, it’s Nora. I need you to grab the DMV photo and the Rose College student photo of Anya Ballard, the female deceased, and send it to Sara Ralston in the Reno office. Ask her to show the pics to all Starbucks employees at the address that’s in my report-it’s near the university. She needs to find Summer, who was working this morning, and make sure she sees Anya’s photo. I want to know if Anya Ballard was the girl seen with Russ Larkin Sunday morning, or if anyone else there recognizes her. And can you ask Rachel to get a copy of the suicide letter and fax it immediately to Quantico for handwriting analysis and assessment? Specifically, I want to know whether the person who wrote the suicide note also wrote the letters that have been sent to the media…. Great, thanks.” She hung up. “He’s on it.”

“Did I miss something?” Sean asked.

Nora said, “We know that Larkin met with a college-aged girl the day he was murdered. If we can rule out Anya Ballard, that gives us more reason to trust your memory about what you may have heard.”

She spotted Sheriff Sanger driving up to take her to the county jail. “Sanger’s here,” she said, glancing at her watch. “Can we meet later at FBI headquarters? Say around seven?”

“I’ll be there. I’m going to work with Jason on Russ’s laptop, see if we can find anything after your ERT prints it.”

“How do you know-” She stopped herself. “You’ve worked with him before.”

“I recommended him for the job,” Duke said. “He used to work for Rogan-Caruso part-time while in college.”

“I should have known.” But she smiled. “Thanks, both of you, for your help.”

Help? That was kind of formal. But before Duke could banter with her about their kiss yesterday, she walked off and slid into the front seat of Sheriff Sanger’s truck. They drove off.

His help. He might be a consultant on this case, but he was going to be far more than mere help to Special Agent Nora English.

“I’m going to stay on campus,” Sean said, “keep my ears open and my mouth closed. I might be able to pick up on something, like who the fourth person was.”

“If there is a fourth person,” Duke said, “and he or she had any part in the suicide, then that person is dangerous. Especially if she killed them and tried to make it look like suicide.”

Sean bristled at the suggestion he couldn’t take care of himself. “Duke, when are you ever going to treat me like a grown-up? I’m nearly twenty-five. I have two college degrees, a master’s, and an I.Q. that exceeds yours.”

“Smart people do dumb things.” Duke realized he said the wrong thing-his “stating the obvious” problem with Sean. He was about to apologize when Sean hit the roof of his car.

“I’m going to work for Kane.”

“Like hell you are.”

“You’re not my guardian anymore, Duke. I don’t even know if you’re my brother.”

“I say the wrong thing and you jump down my throat? I’m concerned about your safety. You think maybe you’re overreacting here-”

“I’m not overreacting,” Sean said. “You treat me as if I’m incapable of making tough decisions. You don’t like my friends, you won’t let me work for Rogan-Caruso, and when I can do something that helps, you balk because it’s dangerous. You can’t protect me for the rest of my life. Dammit, Duke. You were the only person I had after Mom and Dad died. Kane had his causes, Liam and Eden had each other, and I had no one- but you never walked away. I love you for that. But I can’t be coddled, protected, and managed. I don’t want to be. I want to contribute to Rogan-Caruso in a meaningful way, not under the watchful eye of my big brother.”

Duke had never heard Sean articulate his feelings like this before. Sean usually mumbled his discontentment and walked away. Duke had always chosen to ignore Sean’s complaints rather than get to the heart of the matter. It was easier for Duke to pretend that he was still in control than to accept that Sean was a man who could make his own decisions, and was smart enough to make the right ones.

Still, if anything happened to Sean because of a case or job that Duke had assigned him, Duke would be lost.

“I’m proud of you, Sean.”

Sean shuffled his feet. “You’ve never told me that before.”

“Of course I have-” Duke stopped. Hadn’t he? Sean stared at him, dead serious. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “I’ve always been proud of you.”

“Even when I was expelled from Stanford?”

“Furious as anything and I wanted to beat sense into you, but secretly proud that you’d devised and executed such an ingenious plan.”