“That is true, but I love you anyway. Mainly because I get my way and needling is your attempt to balance the powers.” She kissed him back and regarded McAdams. “Poor Tyler. You hardly ate.”

“Not the most satisfying of meals, but maybe you did me a favor.” The kid shrugged. “Victor Gerrard may be dead and moldering. So given my track record with corpses, it’s best I don’t go hunting on a full stomach.”

Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

ARMS FOLDED ACROSS his barrel chest, Lance Terry was flushed and sweating. “You have no right to come down here and harass me. If my father was here—”

“If your father were here, I’d tell him that you were in danger and your best option is to talk to the police.” Decker looked around the hallway. “You already think people are following you. Who knows? Maybe someone is spying on us right now.”

The boy’s face drained of color, red to white. “Is someone following you?”

“If he is, he can see us talking. So how about if we come in? It’s a good first step.”

“Yeah . . . right.” Terry swung the door open and let the crew inside, his eyes on Rina, wondering about the new person in the mix. The place was quiet except for the distant clatter of laundry being spun in a dryer. There was a half-packed suitcase on the couch, another closed one on the floor.

Decker’s eyes went to the valise and then to Terry. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your housekeeper?” McAdams asked.

“I gave her the afternoon off.”

Oliver said, “You didn’t want her to see you packing and asking questions.”

Terry said nothing. He wore a body-hugging long-sleeved gray shirt and jeans. There were hiking boots on his feet. His sandy hair swept across his damp brow.

“Where did your friend go? Livingston Sobel?”

“How should I know?” A pause. “He left last night. I suppose he went home.” His eyes refused to focus on any one spot. “Do you really think I’m in danger or is that just a pretense?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Decker said. “Obviously you think you’re in trouble. You’re packing way too much to be going back to school.”

“I’m not going back to school,” Terry said. “At least not this semester. Too much has happened.”

“What are you worried about, Lance?” When Terry didn’t answer, Decker said, “Why don’t we all sit down and you can tell us the truth.”

“I have been telling you the truth!” Terry insisted. “I didn’t have anything to do with Angeline’s death . . . or the dude.”

“His name was John Latham.”

“I didn’t kill her and I didn’t kill him!”