Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

oddballs. And he’s part of this weird Mephisto group.”
    “Yet now you’re telling me he’s a reason for me to stay in Boston.”
    “He’s worth considering, isn’t he?”
    “Wow. He’s come a long way in your estimation.”
    “At least he’s available.”
Unlike Daniel Brophy
was what Jane didn’t have to add. “And he has a thing for you.”
    “No, Jane.” Maura slumped back into the armchair. “He doesn’t.”
    Jane frowned. “How do you know?”
    “A woman knows.” Her gaze drifted off again, pulled like a moth back to the moribund flames. “The night I got here, Anthony showed up, too.”
    “And what happened?”
    “Nothing. The next morning we had a meeting with the faculty. And then he was gone again, off to London. Just a phantom who flits in and out of my life.”
    “Sansone’s been known to do that kind of thing. It doesn’t mean he’s not interested.”
    “Jane,
please
. Don’t try to talk me into another bad affair.”
    “I’m trying to talk you into not leaving Boston.”
    “Because Anthony’s
such
a good catch?”
    “No, because Boston needs you. Because you’re the smartest ME I’ve ever worked with. And because …” Jane sighed. “I’d friggin’ miss you, Maura.”
    The last remnants of the birch log collapsed, sending up a puff of glowing ashes. That, and the steady patter of rain, were the only sounds in the room. Maura sat very still, so still that Jane wondered whether Maura had registered what she’d just said. Whether it made any difference at all to her. Then Maura looked at her, eyes bright with tears, and Jane knew that her words might make all the difference in the world.
    “I’ll take that under consideration,” Maura said.
    “Yeah, you do that.” Jane glanced again at her watch. “I should get going.”
    “Do you really need to leave today?”
    “I want to dig deeper into the Ward and Yablonski cases, which means dealing with multiple jurisdictions, multiple agencies. And I’ll be doing it mostly on my own, since Crowe doesn’t want to waste any manpower on it.”
    “Detective Crowe has a pathetic lack of imagination.”
    “You noticed that, too?” Jane stood. “I’ll be checking in every day, to make sure Teddy’s okay. You call me if there are any problems.”
    “Relax, Jane. This is the safest place he could be.”
    Jane thought about the gated road, the isolation. The thirty thousand acres of wooded wilderness. And she thought of the ever-alert guardians who watched over it all, the Mephisto Society. What safer place to hide a threatened child than with people who knew how dangerous the world could be?
    “I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen,” she said. “I’ll see you back in Boston.”
    On her way out of the castle, Jane stopped to check on Teddy one last time. He was sitting in class, and she didn’t disturb him, just watched from the doorway as Lily Saul, with swoops and slashes, demonstrated the advantages of the Spanish sword used by the Roman legions. Teddy looked enthralled, body angled forward as though to spring out of his chair and join the battle. Lily caught sight of Jane and gave a nod, a look that said:
He’ll be fine. Everything is under control
.
    That was all Jane needed to see.
    Outside, she scurried through the rain to her car, tossed her overnight bag into the backseat, and slid in behind the wheel. Swiping water from her face, she reached in her pocket for the four-digit security code she’d need to exit the gate.
    Everything is under control
.
    But as she pulled out of the courtyard and drove under the archway, something in the distance caught her eye, something in the woods. A man standing among the trees. He was so far away that she could not make out his face, only his shape. His clothes were the same mottled gray-brown as the tree trunks around him.
    The road brought her in that direction, and as she drew closer she kept her eye on the man, wondering why he stood so still. Then a curve in the road briefly cut off her view, and when the clump of trees came back into sight, she saw no one standing there. It was just thestump of a dead oak, its bark mottled with lichen and pocked with woodpecker holes.
    She stopped at the side of the road and rolled down her window. Saw leaves dripping with rain, branches bobbing in the wind. But there was no watcher in the woods, just that lifeless tree stump, masquerading as a menace.
    Everything is under control
.
    Yet her uneasiness remained as she passed