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Thunderstorms had rolled in overnightand rain lashed the car as they drove north. Jane had insisted on driving because when the weather turned nasty and roads were slick, the driver she most trusted behind the wheel was herself. She and Frost had come this way on earlier investigations, following leads north across the Kittery bridge and into Maine. They had been partners for so long, they were now like an old married couple, both of them comfortable with long silences, and for an hour they scarcely spoke as the windshield wipers swiped back and forth and wind buffeted the car.
They were fifty miles past the border when he finally said: “I’m sorry about Saturday night.”
“What?”
“Dinner at your mom’s house. Alice is on this weird diet, see. I was worried your mom might be upset about her not eating very much.”
“What is this weird diet of hers anyway?”
“It’s from a book by this health guru and it changes from week to week. One week she loads up on protein. The next week she only eats salads. This happens to be her salad week. I was hoping your mom wouldn’t notice.”
“Trust me, she notices every forkful that goes into everyone’s mouth. She’s got this mental calculator so she has it down to the calorie.” Jane glanced at him. “How’s it going by the way? You and Alice?”
He shrugged. “Good days and bad. Mostly good.”
“Does she ever talk about, you know. Him.”
“We’re past that. In any relationship you have to learn to move on, you know? The important thing is, she came back to me.” He stared at the rain sheeting down the windshield. “I was no good being single. Hated being on my own, signing up for those stupid dating sites. You remember.”
Yes, Jane did remember because he’d shared his woes after every rejection, every disastrous date. She’d heard about them all, and even if she didn’t particularly care for Alice, Frost clearly loved her and was miserable without her.
“Anyway, when you talk to your mom, tell her it had nothing to do with her cooking. It was just Alice’s diet.”
“I’ll tell her,” Jane said, but she knew that unless you were in a coma, you had no excuse for refusing to eat Angela’s lovingly cooked meals.
“I think the storm’s letting up,” he said.
The rain had lessened to a drizzle, but when she peered up at the sky, she saw black clouds looming to the north. The direction they were headed. “It’ll be back.”
—
Two hours later, they turnedonto a dirt road. The storm had scattered an obstacle course of branches and Jane had to slalom around them as she drove toward what had once been the home of Colby associate professor Eloise Creighton. A vehicle with State of Maine official plates was already parked in the driveway, and as they pulled up beside it, the driver’s door opened and a bear of a man stepped out. He was in his forties, dressed for the weather in an oilskin slicker, but his buzz-cut hair was uncovered and he stood bareheaded in the drizzle, patiently waiting for them to climb out of their car.
“Detective Rizzoli? I’m Joe Thibodeau.”
“And this is my partner, Detective Frost,” she said, and turned toward the residence. It was a handsome log house with expansive windows and a soaring roofline, perfectly suited for this heavily wooded setting. “Wow. Nice place.”
“Yeah, it’s like a dream house, except for the history that comes with it.” He squinted up at the sky. “Let’s get inside before it starts pouring again.”
“You said someone’s living here now?” Jane asked as they climbed the stairs to the front porch.
“Noah and Annie Lutz. Annie’s expecting us. Not particularly happy about the reason for our visit. It’s got to be disturbing, being reminded of what happened here.”
Before they could knock, the front door swung open and a young woman appeared, holding a blond toddler on her hip.
“Hey, Annie,” Thibodeau said to her. “Thanks for letting us take a look around.”
“I have to admit, this is kind of freaking me out a little. Having this come up again.” Annie looked at Jane and Frost. “So you’re from Boston PD?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jane.
“I hope this visit means you’re finally going to arrest him. Because I hate thinking he’s still out there. The truth is, if I’d known about what happened here, I never would have let my husband sign the lease.”
They stepped into the house and Jane looked up to see open beams arching twenty feet overhead. The floor-to-ceiling windows faced a backyard that was surrounded by forest. Although the house itself was spacious, those encroaching trees and the black clouds gathering overhead made the view uncomfortably claustrophobic.
“How long have you lived here, Mrs. Lutz?” Jane asked.
“Eight months now. My husband teaches at Colby College. Chemistry Department. We moved here from L.A. and when we saw this house, we couldn’t believe how reasonable the rent was. Then my babysitter told me about…” Annie set down her squirming toddler and he ran off to pick up a stuffed koala lying on the floor. “I was shocked when I heard there’d been a murder here.”
