Last to Die: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

could she possibly know? She and sixteen-year-old Julian Perkins had nothing in common beyond their shared ordeal last winter, fighting to survive in the Wyoming wilderness. She owed her life to the boy, and now she was determined to be the mother he had lost.
    “Let’s see, what can I tell you about teenage boys?” said Jane, trying to be helpful. “My brothers had stinky shoes. They slept till noon. And they ate about twelve times a day.”
    “Male pubertal metabolism. They can’t help it.”
    “Wow. You’ve
really
turned into a mom.”
    Maura smiled. “It’s a good feeling, actually.”
    But motherhood comes with nightmares, Jane reminded herself as she turned away from Kimmie’s body. She was glad to retreat down the staircase, glad to escape this house of horrors. When at last she stepped outside again, she breathed in deeply, as though to wash the scent of death from her lungs. The media horde had grown even thicker, TV cameras lined up like battering rams around the crime scene perimeter. Crowe stood front and center, Detective Hollywood playing to his audience. No one noticed Jane as she slipped past and walked to the house next door.
    A patrolman stood guard on the front porch, grinning as he watched Crowe perform for the cameras. “So who do you think’s gonna play him in the movie?” he asked. “Is Brad Pitt pretty enough?”
    “No one’s pretty enough to play Crowe,” she snorted. “I need to talk to the boy. He’s inside?”
    “With Officer Vasquez.”
    “We’re waiting for the shrink, too. So if Dr. Zucker shows up, send him in.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    Jane suddenly realized she was still wearing gloves and shoe covers from the crime scene. She peeled them off, stuffed them into her pocket, and rang the bell. A moment later a handsome silver-haired woman appeared at the door.
    “Mrs. Lyman?” said Jane. “I’m Detective Rizzoli.”
    The woman nodded and waved her inside. “Hurry. I don’t want those awful TV cameras to see us. It’s such an invasion of privacy.”
    Jane stepped into the house, and the woman quickly closed the door.
    “They told me to expect you. Although I’m not sure how you’ll be able to do much better with Teddy. That nice Detective Moore was so patient with him.”
    “Where is Teddy?”
    “He’s in the garden conservatory. Poor boy’s hardly said a word to me. Just showed up at my front door this morning still wearing his PJs. I took one look at him and knew something awful had happened.” She turned. “It’s this way.”
    Jane followed Mrs. Lyman into the entrance hall and looked up at a staircase that was the mirror image of the Ackermans’ residence. And like the Ackermans’, this house featured exquisite—and expensive-looking—artwork.
    “What did he say to you?” asked Jane.
    “He said, ‘They’re dead. They’re all dead.’ And that was about all he could get out. I saw blood on his bare feet, and I immediately called the police.” She stopped outside the door to the conservatory. “They were
good
people, Cecilia and Bernard. And she was so happy because she finally had what she wanted, a house full of children. They were already in the process of adopting Teddy. Now he’s all alone again.” She paused. “You know, I don’t mind keeping him here. He’s familiar with me, and he knows this house. It’s what Cecilia would have wanted.”
    “That’s a generous offer, Mrs. Lyman. But Social Services has foster families who are specially trained to deal with traumatized children.”
    “Oh. Well, it was just a thought. Since I already know him.”
    “Then you can tell me more about him. Is there anything that might help me connect with Teddy? What are his interests?”
    “He’s very quiet. Loves his books. Whenever I visited next door, Teddy was always in Bernard’s library, surrounded by books about Roman history. You might try breaking the ice by talking about that subject.”
    Roman history. Yeah, my specialty
. “What