Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

environment. He even seems to have made a few friends.”
    “So what’s the problem?” asked Jane.
    “At my session with him yesterday, I discovered quite a few things he doesn’t remember—or chooses not to remember—about his birth family.”
    “You do know there’s a reason he can’t remember the night they died.”
    “I know they were killed aboard their sailboat off Saint Thomas. And there was an explosion that made Teddy black out. But I can’t help wondering if that explosion is the whole explanation for his memory gaps. When I ask him about his family, he tries to avoid all my questions. He deflects. Says he’s hungry or needs to use the bathroom. Occasionally, he still refers to members of his family in the present tense. He simply doesn’t want to deal with that loss at all.”
    “He was only twelve years old,” said Maura. “Still a tender age.”
    “It’s been two years. That’s time enough for him to have processedhis loss, the way our other students have. There’s a lot of work to be done with Teddy. To get him past this denial stage. To accept his family is gone.” She looked at Jane. “It’s a good thing you brought him here, Detective. I hope you’ll let him stay.”
    “This was an emergency move,” said Jane. “It’s not my decision where he stays in the long term.”
    “Last night, the Evensong board unanimously agreed to accept Teddy, all expenses paid. Please convey that to the state of Massachusetts. We do want to be of service.”
    “I’ll tell you how you can really be of service,” said Jane. “Tell me about the other two students. Claire Ward and Will Yablonski.”
    Welliver stood to pour the herbal tea, which had been brewing. In silence she filled the cups and served her visitors, then she sat down and stirred several generous spoonfuls of sugar into her tea. “This is a delicate matter,” she finally said. “Sharing confidential files about our students.”
    “I’ve got a delicate matter, too,” said Jane. “I’m trying to keep Teddy alive.”
    “Why do you think there’s a connection among these three children?”
    Maura said, “The coincidence is eerie. That’s why I called Jane, because there are so many parallels. Three different families, the Wards, the Yablonskis, and the Clocks, were all killed the same year. Even the same
week
. Now, two years later, their surviving children are attacked again. Within weeks of one another.”
    “Yes, I agree it
is
odd.”
    “It’s way more than odd,” said Jane.
    “But it’s merely a coincidence.”
    Jane leaned forward to look straight into Dr. Welliver’s eyes. “How can you so easily dismiss the possibility there’s a connection?”
    “Because these families were killed in different locations. Teddy Clock’s family died on their sailboat off Saint Thomas. Claire’s parents were shot to death in London.”
    “And Will’s parents? The Yablonskis?”
    “They died when their private plane went down, in Maryland.”
    Jane frowned. “I thought they were murdered. That sounds more like an accident.”
    Dr. Welliver turned and looked out the glass door to the rooftop walkway, where mist was swirling in the wind. “I’ve probably told you far too much already. These are my patients, and they trust me to keep their secrets. I feel bound by rules of confidentiality.”
    Jane said, “You know, I could just pick up the phone and talk directly to law enforcement. I could get those details myself. Why don’t you make my life easier and just tell me.
Was
that plane crash an accident?”
    Dr. Welliver was silent for a moment as she weighed her response. “No, it wasn’t an accident,” she finally said. “NTSB concluded that the plane was sabotaged. But again, there’s no obvious link with the other two families. Except for the manner of their deaths.”
    “Excuse me for saying this,” said Jane, “but drawing that conclusion is
my
job, not yours. Most likely it is a coincidence, but I have to proceed as if it’s by design. Because if I miss something, we could end up with three dead kids.”
    Welliver set down her teacup and studied Jane for a moment, as if trying to gauge her determination. At last, she rose from her chair and shuffled to the filing cabinet, where she rooted inside for a chart. “The Yablonskis’ plane went down soon after takeoff,” she said. “Neil Yablonski was at the controls when it happened. He and his wife were the only ones aboard. At first, it was presumed