“That isn’t as uncommon as you might think,” T. Laine said, “even outside of Nell’s church.” I started to say it wasn’t my church, but she went on. “Offspring of wealthy families marry into wealthy families. They meet each other at debutant balls or Ivy League schools, discover they have things in common, and fall in love.” Lainie’s tone went dark and caustic. “Their families sanction the union and then do business together after the knot is tied. The babies are named after grandparents and great-grandparents and are presented with trust funds and a future to marry—again into the right circles and for the right reasons. Money. They don’t marry grocers or car salesmen or schoolteachers or nurses or preachers or veterinarians or other ordinary people. They don’t marry paras. Only the right people.” Her mouth turned down and her eyes never lifted off her tablet. Tandy was watching her, but it didn’t take an empath to know that T. Laine, the moon witch, had not been the right sort of person for a rich man to marry. At some point in her life, she had been hurt.
Rick said, “Well, that generations-long tradition of intermarriage isn’t what happened here. There are no family records of the Jefferson family before 1950, when the elder Jefferson was delivered to an orphanage, at about three days old. Fifteen years later the children’s home burned to the ground in a massive conflagration.”
JoJo looked up at that one and grinned. “So the kid, Devin, is a pyro from his mama’s side? Not his daddy’s? We been concentrating on the wrong family name. And the nanny is gray because . . . why?”
I shook my head. No one had an answer. Yet.
I asked, “Is the PM on the body burned in the limo fire complete? Do we know for certain that it’s Sonya Tolliver, Justin Tolliver’s wife, the cousin-in-law of Senator Tolliver? And why was she with Devin instead of her own kids?”
“I asked that,” T. Laine said. “Security and Sonya had picked up the kids at school. They had dropped off Sonya’s children at ballet and soccer practice and were heading home.”
Rick leaned in to his laptop and punched a button. A form flashed up on the overhead screen, the words Preliminary COD at the top. “Cause of death for Sonya Tolliver is burning at extremely high temperature. There wasn’t enough liquid left in the body to do toxicology screening the usual way and liver tissue has been sent to a reference lab for special testing. The results aren’t expected back for ten working days. I doubt they bothered with ordering DNA comparisons. Why should they, when multiple witnesses know Sonya Tolliver was in the limo.”
“Can we get samples sent off for DNA?” Occam asked. The first words he’d spoken.
“You can check,” Tandy said, “but line seven says the body was burned so badly that the family requested immediate cremation.” He tapped his screen. “The forensic pathologist released it to the funeral home at two a.m. That’s five hours ago.”
“That’s awful fast,” JoJo said.
“The Tollivers have a lot of political pull,” Tandy said, wryly. “They usually get what they ask for, and there was no reason to hold the body.”
Rick said, “We don’t have probable cause to request that the remains be DNA tested. And I’m sure rich-as-sin Justin Tolliver and the senator would resist an invasion of privacy that might imply anyone was somehow culpable in Sonya’s death or that they were hiding something.”
Soul said, “Jones, put in a request to have extra samples taken and held for possible future DNA comparisons. If the body hasn’t been picked up and if the techs or the pathologist is in a receptive mood we might get our wish. But I won’t hold my breath.”
“Any tissue left after toxicology testing would be held for a time in the lab before disposal,” Rick said. “If we find probable cause, we’d have a narrow time frame to get a warrant and then claim the tissue. We need to talk to Justin. And the senator and his wife. And Devin, if the father approves. And the gray-skinned nanny. Because it’s possible we’re looking at this all wrong. We’re still thinking paranormal turf war. What if it’s simply nonhuman lineage and paperwork? A way to keep the money in the family. Like vampires do.”
T. Laine said, “So they burn Sonya to death? You’re suggesting that they’re long-lived and are covering their tracks by killing people? If so, then the body in the limo wasn’t Sonya Tolliver. It’s a body they picked up to arrange a legal death certificate. But that would indicate the possibility that they murdered someone in the fire. And what happened to the real Sonya? Where is she? And what about the kid? No one could have foreseen that Devin would be saved by Soul. Was he supposed to die? This theory doesn’t work.”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Rick said. “I’m saying we haven’t dug deep enough.”
“Too many unanswered questions,” Soul said. “Our goal right now is to apprehend the unknown subject who’s been shooting up Knoxville. Second order of business is to determine what paranormal species all four of the Tollivers and the Jeffersons are. Not vamps. Not gwyllgi. Not were-creature. Humanoid? Something that produces fire and might live a long time. That might have gray skin.” Soul wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes; she was wearing her working-worried-emotionless face.
JoJo said, “Pulling up my search files. A number of creatures—including Hephaestus, who was the Greek god of blacksmiths, craftsmen, artisans, sculptors, metals, metallurgy, fire, and volcanoes. Roman equivalent of Hephaestus is the god Vulcan.”
Occam said, “You think we have gods here? In Knoxville?”
“No,” JoJo said, shoving long braids over her shoulder with a clicking of beads. “But what if we have descendants of some creature that was once worshiped as a god? Sending you all my list. Go over it and see if you can make any connections. There are even a couple of Hindu gods that were traditionally depicted as being blue-skinned.”
Rick said, “Nell, update on your night out.”
I said, “There isn’t much to tell except the thing we’re looking for has been all over the senator’s property. Every single plant on the entire acreage is dead or dying. The psy-meter 2.0 gave me a level four reading. Whatever we’re looking for has recently marked territory there and showed there in the night. If the nanny is one of the creatures we’re looking for, then maybe she let another one or more onto the property. Maybe they had a party there. It’s a big piece of land and every single plant on it is dead, when they were all fine only a day or so ago.”
“Which means the senator is either colluding with her or is in even greater danger,” Rick said. “Occam, get back there. Stay on the senator like white on rice. Do not let him out of your sight, even in the shower.”
Occam sighed, a sound like a cat blowing, and added the senator’s schedule to the overhead screens. “His entire day is booked with appointments with his constituents. The first one is breakfast with the Small Business Association. The man treats his voters right. Even with a death in the family, he’s keeping appointments.”
Rick said, “Get over there. E-mail an updated schedule to us as soon as it’s confirmed. JoJo will update you via text or e-mail on anything new that comes up before we conclude the meeting and anything we find during the day. Keep your eyes open. Do some good.”
“On it, boss.” Occam stood and swung a leg over the back of his chair. He had been straddling the chair, his arms braced on the back. I carefully didn’t look his way, but I was completely aware of him as he left the room. And I felt some odd unexplained tension leave my body when he was gone.
“Nell,” Rick said.
I jerked at my name, as if I’d been caught daydreaming in church.