My pulse began hammering.
“What was?”
“A chemical accelerant in your father’s office.”
I closed my eyes.
“Someone set it.”
“Yes.”
The word was quiet.
Absolute.
I looked through the window at Vicky playing outside Mercer’s office with his receptionist.
Someone murdered our parents.
Not an accident.
Not bad luck.
Murder.
“Was it Howard?”
“We’re not ready to make an arrest.”
“You have him on video.”
“Near the house.”
“You have the ledger.”
“Financial motive.”
“The blackmail.”
“Additional motive.”
“What else do you need?”
“Proof.”
I gripped the phone.
Then Ruiz said something strange.
“Michael, there’s another problem.”
“What?”
“The accelerant container was found.”
I waited.
“It was a metal solvent can from your father’s garage.”
“So?”
“There are fingerprints on it.”
My heart jumped.
“Howard’s?”
“No.”
I heard papers move.
“The prints belong to Denise.”
When police arrested Denise that evening, every camera in the city seemed to be outside her house.
