The Carbon Murder(66)

MC kneels down by Jake. He’s rolled partway onto his back. His face is pasty, but he looks strangely relaxed. Her heart clutches as she reaches for his wrist.

She lays her head on his shoulder and goes to sleep with him.



MC woke up crying and shivering, all the covers on the floor. Her clock had stopped.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Coyotes? In Revere?” Rose asked me, for once giving me the upper hand in local lore.

I decided to give her a taste of being on the receiving end of an avalanche of information.

“Absolutely. The Revere High Science Club is doing a project called ‘The Urban Coyote Field Study.’ I have the full report if you need it, with appendices on the current poor state of science education in the United States, how students seldom actually experience real-life science. Daniel Endicott’s students are also contributing to correcting the misperception of coyotes as dangerous predators that should be eliminated. They have a trap at a North Revere site, and they’ve captured a twenty-seven-pound female, which they named Cinnamon, for her color and spiciness. Her age can be determined from the wear on her teeth. They’re working with Tufts and BC and with local veterinarians.” I stopped for a breath, and started again. “Several students have been able to observe coyote pups raised in captivity—”

I took a deep breath, and a drink of water.

Rose laughed heartily and held up her hand. “You need water? You’re not as good as I am at holding your breath for an entire story. But, okay. I get it. Sometimes I go on too long.” She paused, her face reconfiguring into a serious expression. “I guess we shouldn’t be joking this way. MC is very, very upset, and I don’t want anyone to think that I’m glad in any way—”

“Rose, no one would think that. Not MC, not me. We’ll just have to give her a little time to adjust to this. It’s awful for everyone.”

“Thanks, Gloria. And you’ll find out who did it, you and Matt, I know.”

I hoped she was right. I’d never had such a case, barely able to follow one lead when another crisis turned up. Matt and I had been so excited about what the Houston transcript revealed. Berger had missed some connections, mostly because neither he nor anyone in the department was seriously working on the Nina Martin case. With Matt out a good part of the time, everyone’s load had increased, and for all they knew, they’d found the only killer—Rusty Forman might even have been Nina’s jealous boyfriend, coincidentally an ex-con.

I hated to admit, too, that Jean had a point—I knew that if MC were not involved, I would also have abandoned the case long ago, and focused completely on taking care of Matt.

We expected that Jake’s murder would reopen the entire investigation, however, and I felt optimistic that all the threads would come together soon.

As far as Matt knew, Rose had casually stopped by to see him. It was pure coincidence that she might hang around with him while his partner and I went to interview fifteen-year-old Jacqueline Peters, the RHS freshman who’d stumbled onto Jake Powers’s body. Matt, asleep at the moment, was doing well, but I still didn’t like the idea of his being left alone. What if he had a relapse and fainted again, this time without a dining room chair to support him? And what if Jean dropped in, found him unattended, and sued for custody? This was my next uncharitable thought.

“Why did they leave him alive, I wonder?” Rose asked, her ad hoc remarks often leaving me speechless for a moment. She means Jake, not Matt, I instructed my brain.

“Whoever shot him probably didn’t dream anyone would be crawling around the marsh late at night. But as I learned from Daniel, coyotes are nocturnal and—”

Rose rolled her eyes here. “No, no.”

I laughed. “I’m not going on with this, just to tell you that the class did the tracking during hours of darkness.”

“Interesting. That poor child.”

“Jacqueline Peters. Aren’t you going to tell me about her family?”

“Only because you ask. Her mother used to be married to Timmy Peters, who did some handiwork for us on Tuttle, but then ran off not long after Jacqueline’s little brother was born. Then the mother remarried.” She leaned in close. “To tell you the truth, I think the little one was the new husband’s, before the fact, if you know what I mean. Don’t you love these information sessions?”

I did.

“How is MC doing? This must be very hard for her.”

“She finally picked up the phone this morning. She sounds awful. I’m giving her another day, and then I’m going to force her to go shopping.”