Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

mechanic’s. I didn’t get involved in the case until I got the call from NTSB. In the recovered debris, they’d found signs of penetration by high-velocity fragments. That led them to test for explosive residue. Don’t quote me on the chemistry details, but they used liquid chromatography and mass spectrometry. Found something called hexa-hydro blah blah blah. Otherwise known as RDX.”
    “Research Department Explosive,” said Frost.
    “So you did read the report.”
    “That part interested me. It’s used by the military and it’s more powerful than TNT. Mix it with wax, and you can shape it. It’s part of what makes up Semtex.”
    Jane looked at her partner. “Now I know why you wanted to be a rocket scientist. So you can blow stuff up.”
    “And that’s exactly what happened to the Yablonskis’ little Skyhawk,” said Parris. “It got blown up. The RDX was lit up via radio control. Not a timer, not altitude-triggered. Someone was on site, saw the plane take off, and pressed a button.”
    “So this was not a mistake,” said Jane. “Not the wrong plane.”
    “I’m almost certain the Yablonskis were the intended target. That’s probably not what you heard from Neil’s NASA colleagues. They refuse to believe anyone would want to kill him. I never bothered to enlighten them.”
    “Yes, that’s exactly what we heard from Dr. Bartusek,” said Jane. “That it had to be a mistake. That Neil had no enemies.”
    “Everyone has enemies. But the kind who play around with RDX?” He shook his head. “We’re talking scary shit, military-grade explosives. Scary enough to make me wonder if …” He suddenly stopped as the waitress brought their meals. Compared with the huge slab of meat on Parris’s platter, Jane’s seven-ounce filet and Frost’s chicken breast looked like appetizers. Only after the waitress had left did Jane prompt Parris to finish his sentence.
    “It made you wonder what?” she asked.
    “If I was the next one who’d turn up dead,” he muttered, and shoved a dripping chunk of meat into his mouth. Bloody juices pooled on his plate as he cut another chunk, took another gulp of his martini. Jane remembered what he’d said on the phone earlier that afternoon:
I’d rather not meet at my residence
. She’d thought it was merely to keep his job separate from his personal life. Now his statement had an ominous new meaning.
    “This scared you that much?” she said.
    “Damn right.” He looked at her. “You’ll start to understand if you keep chasing this.”
    “What are you afraid of?”
    “That’s just it, I don’t know. I’ll never know if I was being paranoid and imagining things. Or if there really
was
someone tapping my phone. Tailing my car.”
    “Whoa.” Jane laughed. “You’re serious?”
    “As a heart attack.” He set down his knife and fork and stared at her. “That’s why I’m glad you came with your partner here. Someone to watch your back. I’m old school enough to think ladies need to be looked after, even if they’re cops.”
    “Looked after?” Jane said to Frost. “You’ve been falling down on the job.”
    “Detective Parris,” said Frost, “where do you think this, uh, threat is coming from?”
    “I can hear it in your voice. You don’t believe me. But you’ll find out soon enough. So here’s my advice: Keep looking over your shoulder. Everywhere you go, pay attention to the faces, and you’ll notice some of them start to look familiar. The guy in the coffee shop. The gal in the airport. Then one night, you’ll notice the van parked outside your house. The van that just stays there.”
    Frost shot a glance at Jane, and it was not missed by Parris.
    “Yeah, okay. You think I’m nuts.” He shrugged and reached for his martini. “Just keep digging and things will start squirming out of the mud.”
    “What things?” said Jane.
    “You’ve probably already got ’em stirred up, just by coming here and asking questions.”
    “Having to do with Neil or with Olivia?”
    “Forget Olivia. Poor gal was just in the wrong plane at the wrong time.” Parris waved at the waitress and pointed at his empty martini glass. “If you don’t mind,” he called out.
    “You think the motive was professional?” asked Frost.
    “When you rule out jealous lovers and pissed-off neighbors and greedy relatives, you’re kind of down to the workplace.”
    “You know what his research was at NASA, right?”
    Parris nodded. “Alien life. Word is,