Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

Arthur Toombs now sat. Nearby, in the shadow of trees, was a stone cottage, its roof green with moss, the shutters closed, its secrets locked away.
    Teddy moved to the center of the ring and slowly turned to survey the thirteen boulders. “What is this place?” he asked in wonder.
    “I tried to look it up in the school library,” said Arthur. “I think Mr. Magnus built this when he built the castle, but I can’t find a reference to it anywhere.”
    “How did
you
find this place?”
    “We didn’t. Jack Jackman did, years ago. He claimed it for the Jackals, and it’s been ours ever since. The stone house there, it was all falling down when Jackson first saw it. He and the first Jackals fixed it up, put on the roof and shutters. When it gets cold, we meet in there.”
    “Who’d put a house way up here in the middle of the woods?”
    “It’s kind of strange, isn’t it? Like these thirteen boulders. Why
thirteen
?” Arthur’s voice dropped. “Maybe Mr. Magnus had a cult or something.”
    Claire looked down at where clumps of grass had pushed through the cracks between the stones. In time saplings and eventually trees would do their part to camouflage this foundation, to lift and separate and shatter the granite. Already the years had wrought their damage. But on this summer morning, with the haze hanging in the distance, it seemed to her that this place was timeless, that it had always been this way.
    “I think this is way older than the castle,” she said. “I think it’s been here a really long time.”
    She walked to the edge of the terrace. Through a gap in the trees, she looked down into the valley. There was the Evensong School withits many chimneys and turrets, and beyond it the dark waters of the lake. From here, she thought, I can see the whole world. Two canoes being paddled across the lake, sketching wakes on the water. Students on horseback, moving dots on the pin scratch of a trail. Standing here, with the wind in her face, she felt all-seeing and omnipotent. Queen of the universe.
    The sound of a barking dog told her that Julian was approaching. She turned to see him stride up the steps to the stone terrace, Bear at his heels as always. “You all made it,” he said, and looked at Claire. “You took the pledge?”
    “We promised not to talk about this place, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “It’s not like you’re some secret order. Why do we have to meet up here?”
    “So we can feel free to say exactly what we think. No one else can hear us. And what’s said here, stays here.” Julian looked around at the circle of students, now seven of them in all. A fine collection they were, thought Claire. Bruno, the cheerful little mountain goat. Arthur, who tapped everything five times before he used it. Lester, whose nightmares sometimes ended in screams that woke everyone in the dorm. Claire was the only girl in the group, and even among these oddballs she felt conspicuous.
    “Something strange is happening,” Julian said. “They’re not telling us the truth about Dr. Welliver.”
    “What do you mean, the truth?” asked Teddy.
    “I’m not convinced she killed herself.”
    “I saw her do it,” Claire said.
    “That may not be what actually happened.”
    Claire bristled. “Are you calling me a liar?”
    “I saw Maura bag up Dr. Welliver’s sugar bowl and send it to the crime lab. And the night after she came back from watching the autopsy, she had a long meeting with some of the teachers. They’re worried, Claire. I think they’re even scared.”
    “What’s this got to do with the three of us?” asked Will. “Why did you ask us to be here?”
    “Because,” said Julian, turning to look at Will, “you three are somehow at the center of this. I heard Maura talking on the phone with Detective Rizzoli, and your names all came up. Ward. Clock. Yablonski.” He looked from Will to Teddy to Claire. “What do you three have in common?”
    Claire looked at her two companions and shrugged. “We’re weird?”
    Bruno let out one of his annoying giggles. “Like
that
wasn’t the obvious answer.”
    “There’s also their files,” said Arthur.
    “What about our files?” asked Claire.
    “The day Dr. Welliver died, I was her one o’clock appointment. When I walked into her office, I saw she had three files open on her desk, like she’d been reading them. Your file, Claire. And Will’s and Teddy’s.”
    Julian said, “That night, after she killed herself,