Very Bad Men by Harry Dolan

saw the words on the page.
    Â 
    I killed Henry Kormoran in his apartment on Linden Street.
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    â€œDavid, where did you get this?”
    â€œI’ll tell you,” he said, “but you’d better read the last line too.”
    She flipped to the end.
    Â 
    Sutton Bell is next.

CHAPTER 6
    O ver the last two decades, fields of houses have grown up around the edges of Ann Arbor, filling in the white spaces on the map. Their streets are laid out in straight lines and arcs, and the houses follow a few simple models, with small variations in color and architectural detail.
    The Bells lived in a place with white vinyl siding and an ornament over the garage door that looked like the keystone of an arch. When Elizabeth arrived, the patrol car she’d requested was already parked out front. One of the two uniformed officers stepped out to greet her—a brawny kid named Fielder.
    â€œAll quiet?” she asked him.
    â€œYup,” he said. “Bell’s not home. Or his wife. His daughter’s in there with the nanny. She’s a trip, the nanny. Tried to read my palm.”
    The nanny turned out to be a bejeweled woman with wispy hair. She met Elizabeth at the door and led her back to a family room where an eightyear-old girl sat on the floor drawing with colored markers on a pad of newsprint.
    The girl looked up at Elizabeth and grinned shyly. The perfect specimen of a happy child: tow-headed, blue-eyed, angelic.
    Elizabeth waved to her, wiggling her fingers, and the girl returned the wave and went back to her drawing.
    â€œI’m not sensing any danger,” the nanny said in a low voice.
    Elizabeth answered in the same tone. “Is that right?”
    The nanny led her to a corner away from the girl.
    â€œI don’t want to teach you your business, dear,” the nanny said, “but usually I have strong intuitions, and I’m not picking up anything.”
    â€œDo you know where Mr. Bell is right now?”
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t. I tried to reach him when that young man, Mr. Findley—”
    â€œOfficer Fielder.”
    â€œâ€”when he told me you were concerned for Sutton’s safety. I tried Sutton at work, but they said he left early. At five.”
    â€œWhere does Mr. Bell work?” Elizabeth asked.
    â€œAt a clinic in town,” the nanny said. “He’s a nurse practitioner. That’s why I’m not worried. He’s a healer now.” She paused to emphasize her point. “He’s had violence in his life, but that was in his past. His future is peaceful.”
    â€œWhat about his wife?” Elizabeth asked.
    â€œRosalie’s future is peaceful too. They’re intertwined, you see.”
    â€œI meant, where does she work?”
    The nanny’s eyes twinkled as if the misunderstanding amused her. “She sells cosmetics at Macy’s at the mall. They close at nine, so I expect her home any minute.”
    â€œDoes she have a cell phone?”
    â€œThey both have them, but they’re not shackled to them. I think that’s healthy—”
    Elizabeth interrupted her. “Could you give me their numbers?”
    The woman put a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I can if you like, dear, but I’ve already left messages for both of them. You can spend your energy trying to find them, but if you’ll just wait I think they’ll come to you.”
    In a rattle of jewelry, the nanny headed off to get the numbers. Elizabeth drifted over to the girl, who was working intently on her drawing. Jagged pine trees in green. A house with a peaked roof. A smiling man holding something that could have been a lollipop or a flower or a microphone.
    Elizabeth thought the man must be Sutton Bell, but before she could ask she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Then raised voices and footsteps approaching. The nanny trailed after a well-dressed woman with fine clear