Joe skimmed both articles again.
The second mentioned the professor’s scholarly monographs, and the first touted William Morton’s acclaimed fictional account of Edgar Allan Poe’s life.
“No note found at the second scene, either?” Joe asked.
“To be honest, I didn’t know about the Baltimore death until Adam called and I started doing research. In fact, Hicks’s death isn’t even on the books as a murder. It’s listed as accidental. The investigators concluded that he went into the family mausoleum for whatever reason, thought he’d locked himself in, then panicked, had a heart attack and died. As far as William Morton goes, I don’t think anyone ever thought his murder had anything to do with Poe. And maybe it didn’t.”
Joe stared thoughtfully into space. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Blackhawk had presented him with some really solid research, the type that could give him what he needed to crack the case.
“We’ll need to find out if any of the New York board members were in either city at the relevant times,” he said.
“None of them,” Brent said. “At least, none of them was living in either place.”
Joe frowned. “You’ve already checked?”
“Of course,” Brent said.
“But either one is easily reachable from here,” Nikki put in. “By air or driving.”
“Do we know if any of the board members were on vacation in either area at the time?” Joe asked.
“I haven’t had time to pull their credit-card records. We’re looking at three different cities and three different states, but we’ll get there,” Brent said. He tapped on the paper. “I know William Morton’s widow,” he said.
Joe looked up at him. “You do?”
“Yes. I happened to meet her when I was in Richmond, doing some…some work at Hollywood Cemetery there. She had brought flowers. We talked. I’d say she considers me a friend.”
“Can we interview her?” Joe asked.
“Yes. And here’s something interesting. Her husband knew Thorne Bigelow.”
“Not surprising, given that they were both interested in Poe. Still, the police in both jurisdictions should start coordinating their investigations. In fact, the FBI should be involved,” Joe said.
“I’m sure they will be,” Brent said, leaning back. “But we’re still talking law-enforcement agencies, and lots of legal hurdles they can’t circumvent.”
Joe felt as if he were listening to Raif Green. Cops couldn’t always do what he did. They were public servants.
He wasn’t.
Just then Brent looked past him and rose. Turning, Joe saw that Adam and Genevieve had arrived. Adam was wearing a suit and looked as if he belonged on Wall Street. And Genevieve…
He winced inwardly. Her eyes were on his, and they were full of hurt.
He didn’t look away. He wondered if she could read his own feeling of betrayal in his eyes.
But despite that, he also felt an instant surge of appreciation for the fact that she was there. He realized, seeing her, the luster of her hair, the easy grace of her movements, even that look in her eyes, that, whether he liked it or not, she had come to mean so much to him. No, not so much. Everything.
Still…
He turned away. He couldn’t help it. He was still angry. She had asked for his help, and he had given her his best. And she? She had betrayed him.
She had called in Adam Harrison.
And then she was there, exchanging hugs and hellos.
“Brent, Nikki, it’s wonderful to see you again. Thanks so much for coming.” Her greeting was enthusiastic.
“Joe,” she said, after greeting the others.
Little enthusiasm there.
“Hey, Gen,” he replied, and gave her an awkward kiss on the cheek.
“Shall we order drinks?” Adam said.
“There are some loose ends I’d like to tie up here,” Joe told Brent, getting back to business—and trying hard not to look at Gen—once they’d ordered iced tea all around. “But then I’d like to stop by the Baltimore police station, and get down to Richmond and interview your cop friends. And the dead man’s widow, as well.”
“What’s going on?” Genevieve asked.
“Brent found some similar deaths that just might be related to your murders up here—and might bring us closer to the truth,” Adam explained.
“Really?” Genevieve asked. “So when are we leaving?”
“I need the afternoon for those loose ends I mentioned,” Joe said. “I want to bring Raif Green and Tom Dooley up to speed on what I’ve just learned, for one thing.”
“There’s something else I think we need to take care of,” Brent told him.
Why the hell was the man looking at him that way? Joe wondered.
“I think you and I need take a trip together first,” Blackhawk said.
“A trip together? What are you talking about?” Joe asked impatiently.
“Hastings House,” Blackhawk said.
CHAPTER 15