Free Bombshell by Catherine Coulter Page B

“Spooner has liaised with the NSA for us in the past. If there’s a way to find this guy, Spooner will do it. Of course, there are new articles and postings about the Cronins all over the Web now—photos of the family, comments by Tommy’s friends at Magdalene College, as well as blogs and forums with theories about why he was murdered in such a public way. It’s a hodgepodge, though some of them are cruel. There’s even talk of a family curse, what with the death of both Tommy Cronin’s parents in the last two years, and now their only son.”
    Ollie said, “All the Internet hype—I’m thinking it’s what the killer wanted. Savich, do we have anything else going besides Spooner tracing that upload to YouTube?”
    “Not much. Ben has already spoken by telephone to two men and one woman he tracked down who’d uploaded what they could see of the crime scene on social networks. They told him they didn’t see anyone get close to the body because the police were keeping everyone at a distance by the time they arrived.
    “Needless to say, we’d know a lot more about Tommy’s whereabouts last night by now if the weather hadn’t shut down the power and the roads, making it a no-go today.
    “Sherlock and I will drive to Chevy Chase to visit Tommy Cronin’s grandparents tomorrow morning. Then we’ll go on to see Marian Lodge, Tommy’s aunt, who lives in Potomac Village in Montgomery County, Maryland. I’ve already spoken to them, and they’ll be expecting us.”
    Maitland said, “The snow’s supposed to stop during the night, and then it’ll warm up again. Director Mueller called Palmer Cronin and has assured him and his wife that we will find whoever murdered his grandson. Guys, I don’t want to make a liar out of the director.”
    Sean came dashing into the living room, Sherlock racing to catch him. Sean shouted, “Papa, I bet Marty my next allowance the Patriots are going to win the Super Bowl!”
    There were some boos, some laughter, some “Hey, Sean, how’s it going?” To which his boy grinned and waved wildly at all the faces displayed on MAX’s monitor.
    After Savich gave out assignments, Mr. Maitland ended the conference call and everyone went to catch the rest of the play-off game. Savich shut MAX down. Sherlock went to the kitchen to make Sean hot chocolate. Savich and Sean walked to the front window and looked out at the deserted street blanketed deep with snow. Savich could barely make out Mr. MacPherson’s house across the street through a veil of soft fluid white snow, with no end in sight for the moment. No way would he make his Porsche dig its way through that mess tomorrow morning. It would have to be Sherlock’s stalwart Volvo to make the trip to the Cronins’ and to Marian Lodge. He said to his son, “Hey, kiddo, you’re going to hang out with your Aunt Lilly and Uncle Simon tomorrow while your mama and I take a field trip.”
    “Aunt Lilly’s going to have a baby,” Sean said, and he didn’t sound very happy about it, because Lilly’s and Simon’s attention wouldn’t be focused on their one and only precious nephew.
    “These things happen, Sean,” Savich said, and he lifted Sean in his arms and hugged him. “Sometimes you’ve got to suck it up.”
    “Marty’s mom is really fat now. Marty says she’s going to have a little brother in March, and I should want a sister so I’d be balanced out like her. I told her I didn’t want to be balanced. I told her I like being the only kid here.”
    Now, that, Savich thought, was something to think about.

Henderson County Hospital
    Early Saturday evening
    “I got here as soon as I could,” Sheriff Dix Noble said, shaking off his leather coat as he came into Delsey’s room. “Ms. Freestone, you’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.” He studied her face for a moment. “I’m Sheriff Noble.”
    She smiled up at the hard-faced man with heart-melting dark eyes. “Everyone in town knows who you are,