Chapter 13 #2
He sagged against the seat cushion. “Jonathon wasn’t going to write a piece about genetic modification of embryos—which I have to say sounds as though we’re on the cusp of what some of the Nazis were trying to do.
Mengele ring a bell? No, he was going to expose the fact that prospective parents are offered a ‘eugenics menu’ of services which cannot be delivered. ”
“But supposing you implant an embryo that you’ve listed as having the potential to score high in SATs, and that kid turns out to be lacking in intelligence?
Suppose your ‘super athlete’ is totally lacking any athletic ability?
” Dan shook his head. “What can the parents do? Complain? Get their money back? Because I’m assuming this costs an arm and a leg.
They can’t complain because one, they don’t want it getting out that they went down that route in the first place, and two, caveat emptor. ”
“Exactly. Who’s going to own up to paying a fortune to make sure they get their vision of the perfect child?
And did you notice how they rated the chances of them scoring high?
Forty-three percent? That’s really noncommittal, don’t you think?
It’s kind of a ‘he might be bright, but then again he might not’ sort of promise.
” Sherrie wrung her hands. “Now do you see why they killed Jonathon? Somehow they found out what he was working on, and they bumped him off to keep their little secret. So what if they can’t do all those modifications they promise?
They might not be able to do them now, but give it time… .”
“But how? How could they discover what he was going to write about?” Gary scraped his fingers through his hair. “He didn’t even give his editor the full story, so we can rule out anyone working for the paper.” He peered at her. “The guy who gave you all this—what about him?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know. But they had to have found out somehow.
” She gave him a beseeching glance. “Will you look into it? I have to know the truth, because every time I go into that lab, I’m thinking they know it was me who told him, and I’m next.
And I can’t keep living like this. I’m taking Xanax like it’s candy, my nerves are shot, I’m not sleeping… .”
Gary stood. “We’ll look into it, I promise.” Dan got up too.
“Then you think I’m right?” She rose.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “But it’s a possibility I can’t dismiss.”
“There’s someone else you need to speak to.
Jonathon contacted someone at Harvard for more information on genetic modification.
What was her name? Yeah. Dr. Samantha Phillips.
He spoke to her a few times, trying to get his head around the genetics aspect.
” Her eyes widened. “Maybe she’s the one who leaked the information. ”
“We’ll interview her too,” Gary assured her. His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen.
Shit.
“I’m sorry, but we really have to go. I’m wanted back at the precinct.” They thanked her for seeing them and left.
“Are we wanted?” Dan asked as they headed for the car. “Or was that your get-out ruse to leave? Because toward the end it was starting to sound like something out of a thriller.”
Gary held his phone up to reveal Travers’s short message.
My office. ASAP.
“Aw, crap.”
“Yeah, that.”
Apparently, Travers had finally gotten wind of how far they’d strayed from their original case.
Now all they had to do was convince him they needed to follow this through.
Travers pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.” But before Gary’s ass touched the worn leather, he launched. “I thought you were looking into the case of a student who died in a drug deal?”
“We were. We still are, but—”
“But then you started another? Because I haven’t heard from either of you, and then I ran into Rachel Broome, who started telling me all about this double shooting that you’re all investigating.” He gave Gary a meaningful stare. “This is where you start talking.”
Gary leaned forward. “There have been developments.”
“That much I surmised for myself.”
“We think there are links between our cold case and the two recent deaths.”
“Specifically?”
“Right now, it’s mostly the ammo and style of execution used in all three deaths.”
Travers’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it?”
Gary gestured to Dan. “That, Dan’s intuition, and my gut feeling.” He gazed earnestly at Travers. “Sir, we want to pursue this. Let us follow the evidence.”
Travers clicked on his laptop and peered at the screen. “The housebreaker—Ray—you’ve looked at the movements of his associates? This is definitely not a falling out among thieves?”
“None of them could have killed him. All their alibis check out. And none of them recognized the man he met in the bar. The one who contacted him to do the job.”
“And Wilmer’s death now looks suspicious,” Dan added.
“Plus we have doubts Ray was actually there.”
Travers frowned. “This is the same man caught on CCTV getting into Wilmer’s car? That’s pretty incontrovertible evidence.”
“And we’re having that evidence analyzed,” Gary informed him.
“Ah. That explains the call I got from Accounts. Something about a bill from SecureCo?”
“And it’ll be worth it if it helps prove—or disprove—our theory.”
Travers stroked his chin. “The last time I let you go off on a tangent, you produced results.” Then he frowned. “Except I’m less concerned about that and more concerned about not being kept in the loop, especially if your tangential investigations lead somewhere, like they did last time.”
Gary held his breath.
Finally Travers nodded. “Okay. Continue with your investigations, but keep me informed, okay? I want regular updates. And I don’t want any more surprises. Don’t let me learn what you’re up to from another detective. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Travers paused. “You think there really is a link between the dead drug dealer and the two from Tuesday night?”
“Yes,” Gary declared in a firm tone. He bit his lip. “Maybe.”
“Except we don’t believe he was a drug dealer,” Dan added.
Travers rolled his eyes. “Out. Come back when you have something to tell me.”
They hurried out of the corner office. A lot of people had already vacated their desks—it was almost six o’clock—and the place was quieter.
“So what now?” Dan asked as they walked toward their office.
“Now? We go home. We’re done for the day.” He smiled. “Actually, we’re done for the weekend.” Thank God. He wanted a little downtime with Dan.
And come Monday, there would be a new name on his list of people to talk to—Dr. Samantha Phillips.