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I groaned, knowing I should either check the phone or ignore it, get up, and go for a run. But then it started ringing again.

I leaned over, picked up the phone, and saw that, fortunately, the screen wasn’t broken. The caller ID showed a 212 area code—New York City. Was Bree calling on the hotel phone?

I answered. “This is Alex.”

“Dr. Cross, it’s Suzanne Liu,” she said breathlessly. “I need to speak with you in person as soon as possible.”

“Well, I can’t come to New York, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, no, I’m still here in DC. I’m staying at the Watergate and doing research on Thomas. I came across something I was going to call you about, but he found out and is threatening me. I desperately need your help, Dr. Cross.”

CHAPTER 33

I LEFT A NOTE for Nana Mama, Jannie, and Ali, all of whom were still sleeping, telling them that I was meeting someone for an early breakfast and that I’d be back soon.

It was a spectacular day in the nation’s capital—not a cloud in the sky, low humidity. I saw spring flowers blooming everywhere as the Uber took me to the Watergate Hotel. I had suggested we meet at one of its restaurants.

But when I phoned to say I was almost there, Tull’s former editor sounded shaky.

“I know it’s probably irrational, but I never knew what Thomas was capable of, and I still don’t. I’m sorry, but could you come upstairs? The management comped me one of the ambassador suites. It has a kitchen and a balcony where we can eat.”

I said, “I try not to be in a woman’s hotel room if it’s not my wife’s.”

“Perfectly understandable,” she said, though her voice sounded strained. “But this is a huge suite. We’d be nowhere near the bedroom and I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering room service.”

Against my better judgment, I sighed and said, “What’s the suite number?”

She gave it to me along with a code I had to put into an elevator reserved for suite holders. When the elevator doors opened, Liu was standing there barefoot in black pants and a black top; her hair was pulled back, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

“I so appreciate you coming over on such short notice, Dr. Cross,” she said. “This has all been nerve-racking beyond my wildest imagination. And now I’m being threatened. I mean, these things don’t normally happen in a book editor’s world.”

“I expect they don’t,” I said.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

“I could eat something.”

“It just arrived,” she said and led the way into a beautiful suite with dark wood floors, custom Italian leather furniture, and a sweeping view of the Potomac River.

A room-service cart was parked in front of the open sliding doors. On the balcony was a small table with two place settings.

“I ordered scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, fruit, coffee, and juice. Does that work?”

“Sounds good,” I said.

Liu began lifting stainless-steel lids, and the aromas quickly had my stomach growling. After she’d served herself and sat down, I spooned eggs, bacon, and fruit onto my plate and poured a cup of coffee.

I carried it out onto the balcony where a breeze blew and made conversation a little difficult. The book editor had put on sunglasses. She smiled.

“I really appreciate you coming, Dr. Cross.”

“It’s my job,” I said as I took a seat opposite her. “But honestly, I’d appreciate you getting to the point. I’m missing time with my kids.”

Liu’s smile faded a little and she busied herself with her napkin. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry. Okay, where to begin?”

“You said Tull threatened you after you found out something about him.”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “You can hear the threat for yourself. But let me tell you what made him so angry first.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a bite of delicious scrambled eggs made with melted Boursin cheese.

“Remember when I told you and Detective Sampson that there were things that seemed off during the writing of all three of his books?”

“I do, but you gave no specifics.”

“I admit I blocked the details from my mind because the books were doing so well,” Liu said, and she sipped from her cup.

“And now you’ve recalled the details?”

“And more from my old notes,” she said. “Did you know that Thomas was the one who first told the police that the accidental electrocutions of shop clerks around metro Boston might be the work of one murderer?”

I blinked and shook my head. “That’s not the way it reads in the book. He said he and a detective with the Boston police came to that conclusion about the same time.”

“I know it reads that way, but it turns out it’s not true. Jane Hale, the Boston detective, went to one of Thomas’s book signings when Electric hit the hardcover bestseller list. Hale comes across like a rock star in the book, and she was grateful for Thomas’s depiction. She’d not only become semi-famous; she’d received a big promotion after the killer was caught and convicted. But we all went out after the book signing and had many drinks to celebrate, and that’s when Hale told me that she’d had no idea the electrocutions were connected until Thomas brought the possibility to her attention.”