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He took an uncomfortable breath. “In Boston, she staged a break-in to heighten the public tension in the case. She did the same kind of thing in South Carolina during the Doctor’s Orders murders. She’s meticulous, though. Doesn’t get caught. She’s trained not to get caught.”

“Who trained her not to get caught?” Sampson asked, sounding incredulous.

“My suspicion is either DIA or CIA. Certainly one of the alphabet agencies. When I met her, I was working for NCIS on a case that required travel to Iraq and Afghanistan. Moore was a, quote, ‘private contractor’ who pointed me in the right direction a couple of times in my investigation. We hit it off. A year later, in an op gone wrong, she evidently killed two civilians, a mother and a daughter, but she avoided jail by ending her contract with the U.S. government.”

I said, “And going to work for you?”

“She came to visit me at Harvard and told me what had happened. I needed someone smart, someone …”

“Willing to bend and break the rules if it helped the story,” Sampson said.

“That almost describes Lisa,” Tull replied. “I’d actually describe her as someone who is eager to break the rules if it gets her to the end result that much faster.”

CHAPTER 85

SHORTLY BEFORE ELEVEN SUNDAY morning, Bree watched as Newark flickered by her window. She was on the Acela bound for Penn Station, where Detective Rosella Salazar would be waiting to take her to talk with members of the Manhattan district attorney’s office assigned to what the press were calling “the Paula Watkins murders.”

Setting aside the newspaper, Bree called Phillip Henry Luster. She had not heard from him since the night of the murders and wondered how he was.

On the fourth ring he answered in a flat voice, “This is Phillip.”

“This is Bree Stone.”

“I know.”

“How are you, Phillip?”

“Wanting bourbon and quaaludes,” he said. “Tell me, why has it taken so long for you to call and inquire as to my condition?”

“I could say the same thing.”

“Except you are a former cop and used to these sorts of unspeakable events. I can’t sleep because I keep seeing the lights go out at Paula’s, the flashes of the guns. I keep hearing the screams. I can’t get certain things about that night out of my mind.”

“I apologize for not calling sooner, Phillip,” Bree said. “It was callous of me and I’m sorry. You’ve been such a big help. And what you’re suffering from is PTSD.”

“Even I can diagnose that.” He sniffed. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with all the violence,” he said.

“I deal with it as little as possible and so should you. Phillip, you were caught up in things beyond your control and you lived. Be thankful.”

“Oh, I am. But I fear I am more sensitive than others. I mean, look at Frances. Just plunging on as if nothing’s happened.”

“Plunging on in what? Business?”

“I have no idea about the business, but her social life has taken off. It’s a scandal. She’s actually going to attend a fundraiser I’m involved in tonight at Cipriani on Forty-Second.”

“You invited her?”

“Long before the tsunami, she and I were named cohosts. Look, no one involved is happy she’s coming, least of all me.”

“Well, I’m in town, and I’d be happy to be a fly on the wall for that encounter,” Bree said and laughed. “I’m sorry, Phillip.”

“No, no,” he said, then paused. “Are you free tonight?”

“I was going to head back after a meeting with the DA.”

“Nonsense. You’ll be my date. Your presence alone will irritate Frances no end. Do you have her gown with you?”

“No, I don’t have anything like that with me.”

“Well, I do,” Luster said. “Come straight to my studio after your powwow with the DA is over. I promise to make you look stunning.”

Bree thought about it for a moment. She really wanted to head home after the meeting, but she said, “I know you will, Phillip, and I accept. It will be fun.”

“A night to remember, I’m sure,” he said. “Until later.”

He hung up. She realized the train was pulling into Penn Station. Looking out the window as it rolled slowly to a stop, she spotted Rosella Salazar sitting on a bench and rubbing her belly, which looked enormous.

Bree walked up to her a few moments later and said, “You’re bigger every time I see you!”

Salazar grinned sourly and struggled to her feet. “He’s giving me heartburn and hemorrhoids now. C’mon. The DA’s expecting us at quarter to twelve.”

They walked through the new Penn Station welcome hall, a stunning structure, and out onto the street, where Salazar had a car waiting. After getting in and saying hello to the officer at the wheel, Bree told the detective about her conversation with Luster and the fundraiser that evening at Cipriani on Forty-Second.

Salazar said, “You’re going?”

“How could I refuse? He’s putting me in one of his dresses.”

The detective laughed and looked down at her belly bulging against the tent shirt she wore. “He should get me a dress. I think seeing us together would rattle Frances even more.”

“I’ll call Phillip back, see what he can do.”

“Really?”

“Why not?”

CHAPTER 86

Washington, DC