Maybe Sullivan’s attack on Molly was all of it, at least for the time being. Finally satisfied, he drove to the apartment. As he pulled into his parking space, his phone rang. It was Anson.

Instantly, tension came roaring back. Throwing the Audi in park, he answered. “Anson.”

“You took her to the safe house, didn’t you? That’s why the location is compromised.”

“Yes.”

Anson’s sigh was audible over their connection. He said somberly, “It’s probably just as well.”

He had expected friction from Anson, especially after their earlier text conversation, but that surprised him. He narrowed his eyes. “Something happen?”

“There’s another fire. This time it’s a house near the university. One body has been discovered, a female. There’s no official ID on her yet, but tax records list a woman named Nina Rodriguez as the property owner. I’ve been doing some searching. Apparently she’s a divorce attorney.”

Josiah’s thoughts winged back to the conversation he’d had with Molly in the park. She’d said, Nina Rodriguez is my lawyer. Ever heard of her? He swore.

Anson asked, “Do you know who she is?”

“Unless there’s another divorce lawyer in the area named Nina Rodriguez, she’s Molly’s attorney.”

“So the two incidents are connected,” Anson said heavily.

“Looks like it.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Text me the address, will you?”

“Sure. Are you going to check out the site?”

“You bet your ass I am.” He started the car again.

The district attorney’s office in Fulton County had a hundred assistant district attorneys statewide and close to a hundred and fifty other staff that included administrative personnel and investigators.

It might be quirky for the DA himself to show up at a house fire in the early hours of the morning on a weekend, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Besides, it might be useful for him to develop a reputation for being a quirky, hands-on kind of guy, and two suspicious fires in one night warranted some attention.

Once he received the address, he plugged it into his GPS, and twenty minutes later, he parked half a block away from a house fire that turned the night sky red. Despite the odd hour, the scene had drawn several onlookers who clustered across the street, clad in pajamas, bath robes, and other random, casual outfits.

Patrol cars, fire trucks, and an ambulance were parked nearby, along with a black van with white lettering that identified it as a medical examiner’s vehicle. All standard operating procedure. He scanned the area for any present or residual magic but didn’t sense anything.

His phone buzzed, but he ignored it as he breached a simple police barrier constructed with tape run between two parked squad cars. When a uniformed policeman strode over to turn him back, he introduced himself and showed his ID.