Page 110 of Serial Burn

He whirled back to face her. “No! I told you I wasn’t a killer.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Wait! Why the jewelry? Tell me! Why leave it at the scene?”

“It was my mother’s. I’m the only one who knows about it. I walked in on her trying it on and wondered where she got it. There was no way she could afford those pieces. But she wouldn’t tell me, and she swore me to secrecy. I figured it out, though. I thought about selling them, but the very idea of using that money ... money that came from the man responsible for her death?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want anything from him. It would have felt like a betrayal of my mother. I’ve always wanted to get rid of them, so when the fires started, it seemed a good time to do that. You were supposed to use them to figure out who was burning the buildings, but apparently y’all aren’t that smart.”

“My father bought those pieces. Is that what you wanted me to know?”

It was his turn to stop and stare at her for a moment. “Well, well,” he finally said, “what do ya know? Maybe you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“Why drop them at the fires? If you wanted us to figure out who bought the jewelry, why not just tell us? And how does the jewelry connect to the fires and who started them?”

“Because I can’t have any of this coming back to bite me.”

He didn’t think kidnapping her would come back—

A door slammed overhead and he glanced up. “Like I said, I haveto go.” His phone rang. “That’s my cue. I have a client coming to pick up supplies, but I’ll be back with some food. There’s water in the cooler. It’s fresh.”

His reference to a customer sparked an idea. “Is George Harlow a customer of yours?”

He froze again, then tilted his head. “Yes. Why?”

“You managed to get your hands on his key fob somehow, didn’t you?”

“Wow.” He looked impressed. “You figured that out?”

It had been a shot in the dark but explained the gun theft. “Now that I know it was you looking for me, I figured you had to know Harlow.”

“I delivered some supplies to his business. I knew he kept the weapon in his car, and when I saw the keys on his desk, I waited for him to turn his back and pressed the button. Then grabbed it out of his car. Easy enough. And now I really must leave. For real this time. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait! Please! I need to take this gear off. It’s too hot.”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No, if I take the cuffs off, you’ll just attack me. I can’t deal with that right now. I have a customer. I’ll turn the air on. Now I’ve got to go.”

“I have more questions.”

But he backed out of the room and the key twisted in the lock and she slammed her hands against the door. “Who needs pool supplies this time of year!”

NATHAN SWIGGEDANOTHER MOUTHFULof coffee, then set the cup on the hood of the sedan. He, James, Andrew, and Kenzie were at the entrance to Jesslyn’s old neighborhood. They’d requested the help of Lake City’s finest and had about thirty cops canvassing the area, going door-to-door to speak to those who’d lived in the neighborhood when Jesslyn’s family had been there.

Those who weren’t home were being located.

It was taking too much time.

But what other choice did they have?

On the iPad, he scanned the list once again, noting the names that had been checked off the shared sheet.

One name snagged his attention. “Wait a minute.”

Andrew looked up. “What?”

“I think I’ve got it,” Nathan said. “Morgan. It’s common enough not to jump out at me, but put the word ‘professor’ in front of it and now I’m curious.”

Andrew leaned in. “You think it’s the same family?”

“I’m thinking the connection is there. Look at all the kids from the school who are overly interested in the fires. Kids with a professor named Morgan.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely worth looking into.”

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