Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

of Boston how he single-handedly took down the evil genius Zapata.”
    Marquette cocked his head. “I need you in my office.”
    She saw Frost’s look of
uh-oh
as she stood up, and she followed Marquette in a brisk march into his office. He closed the door. She waited until he’d settled into his own chair before she sat down. Tried to keep her gaze steady as he stared at her across his desk.
    “You and Crowe are never going to agree on anything, are you?” he said.
    “What’s his complaint about me now?”
    “The lack of a unified front on the Ackerman case. The fact you keep raising questions about a rush to judgment.”
    “Guilty as charged,” she conceded. “I think it is a rush to judgment.”
    “Yeah, I’ve heard all your objections. But you have to see how this looks, if the press gets wind of what you’re saying. It’d be a PRnightmare. This case has already gotten everyone’s attention. Wealthy family, dead kids, everything that Nancy Grace loves. It also has a villain that half of America loves to hate, an illegal immigrant. Zapata was everyone’s dream perp. Best of all, he’s dead and the case is closed. A fairy-tale ending.”
    “If nightmares were fairy tales,” she said.
    “After all, they do call them the Brothers Grimm.”
    “The public’s satisfied, so you’re saying I should shut up and be satisfied, too?”
    He leaned back in his chair. “Sometimes, Rizzoli, you really are a pain in the butt.”
    “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
    “Which is why you make a good investigator. You poke and you prod. You go digging holes where no one else wants to. I read your report on the three kids. Semtex in New Hampshire? A plane bombed in Maryland? This thing is looking like one hell of a big graveyard.” He paused, fingers tapping his desk as he studied her. “So go ahead. Do your thing.”
    She wasn’t sure what he was saying. “My thing?”
    “Dig. Officially, the Ackerman case is closed. Unofficially, I’ve got doubts, too. But you’re the only one who knows it.”
    “Can I bring Frost aboard? I could use him.”
    “I cannot commit any more resources to this. I’m not even sure I should let
you
spend time on it.”
    “So why are you?”
    He leaned forward, his eyes on hers. “Look, I’d love to close this case right now and call it a win. I want our statistics to look good, of course I do. But just like you, I’ve got instincts. Sometimes we’re forced to ignore those gut feelings, and when it turns out we were right all along, we kick ourselves. I don’t want it someday shoved in my face that I shut this down too fast.”
    “So we’re covering our asses.”
    “Anything wrong with that?” he snapped.
    “Not a thing.”
    “Okay.” He leaned back again. “What’s your plan?”
    She had to think about this for a moment, consider which of the unanswered questions demanded priority. And she decided that her number one question was: What did the Wards, the Yablonskis, and the Clocks have in common, aside from the manner of their deaths? Did they know one another?
    She said: “I need to go to Maryland.”
    “Why Maryland?”
    “Will Yablonski’s father worked at NASA-Goddard. So did Will’s uncle, Brian Temple. I want to talk to their colleagues at NASA. Maybe they know why that plane went down. And why Brian and his wife were so quick to get their nephew out of Maryland and move him to New Hampshire.”
    “Where their farmhouse blows up.”
    She nodded. “This whole thing’s starting to look very big and very bad. Which is why I want Frost along, to help me sort it out.”
    After a moment, he nodded. “Okay, you got Frost. I’ll give you three days on this.”
    “We’re on it. Thank you.” She stood up.
    “Rizzoli?”
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Keep it quiet. Don’t tell anyone in the unit, especially Crowe. As far as the public is concerned, the Ackerman case is closed.”
    “Y OU KNOW HOW THAT old saying goes,
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist
?” said Frost as they drove through the Goddard Space Flight Center campus. “Well, now we’re going to be hanging out with real rocket scientists! That’s so amazing. I mean, look out the window and just think about the average IQ of these guys you see walking around here.”
    “What does that make us, birdbrains?”
    “All that math and chemistry and physics they’ve gotta know. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to launch a rocket.”
    “You mean you never shot up one of those toy