Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Durham, New Hampshire
Thursday, October 10
6:40 p.m.
Why hadn’t he killed her?
Dean Groves had had the chance, but he’d simply walked away. Left her with her weapon and disappeared into darkened corridors as though he’d never slipped from the shadows.
The ache in her chest and shoulder said otherwise. Leigh tried to rub the soreness out, but it was no use. The force of Dean’s attack may have set her recovery back by weeks.
Ford wasn’t doing any better. He pressed the wet paper towel she’d gotten for him against the wound at the back of his head. Blood seeped into the floral design, but the laceration was shallow. No signs of a concussion or internal damage, but she’d make sure he got checked out as soon as possible. He flinched under the pressure of his own hand. “I can’t believe Groves was here.”
“I’m not exactly a fan of surprises either, but at least now we know he’s involved.” Though Leigh didn’t understand in what capacity. Bits and pieces of her and Dean’s conversation bled into focus then right back out as she tried to recall everything that’d been said in those mere minutes. It was no use. Adrenaline and her own emotional conflict had chopped his claims into broken slivers that didn’t fit the box she wanted to put them in. But there was one thing that stood out among the rest. “He claims he’s been hunting our unsub across the country, trying to clear his name of Teshia Elborne’s murder.”
“And you believed him?” Ford brought the paper towel from the back of his head, inspecting the amount of blood. The wound had stopped leaking. Score one for him. Resting his elbows on his knees, the marshal tossed the towel and finally turned those brown eyes on her. “I think Groves will say anything at this point to walk out of this in one piece.”
He was right. A killer’s number one goal was survival. To stay out of custody. To leave this world on their terms. Dean Groves wouldn’t be any different. But she couldn’t dislodge the thought that he could’ve killed her and Ford to ensure he met that goal.
“What else did he say to you?” Ford asked.
I’m doing everything I can to make sure you get out of this alive . Her stomach fluttered as memories ghosted into awareness. An outline leading her to the kill room in the basement. A strong set of hands that’d kept her from drowning. Leigh leaned against the table at her back, careful of the deep bruising from hitting it during the altercation with Dean. She’d cut her attacker with a shard of mason jar. And yet Dean hadn’t shown any signs of injury on his hands or forearms. But he’d drugged her. Begged her to let this case go.
“Leigh?” Ford was suddenly standing in front of her. “What else did he say to you?”
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lost in thought. Leigh shook her head like she could make sense of the jumble in her brain. Without success. “Just that he’s not responsible for any of the victims’ murders.”
“That’s what they all say. Right up until they get the needle.” Ford reached for her, skimming his knuckles along her jaw. The calming effect was instant and penetrating. “I’m going to do another sweep of the building. See if I can’t flush him out.”
“Sure. I want to check in with Ava.” And make sure Dean hadn’t cracked her sternum or any ribs. She’d gone over every move, every block since Dean had left her on the floor with her gun at her feet. Dean Groves wasn’t just a toxicologist anymore. He’d become a weapon she hadn’t been able to fight. “Watch your back.”
“You worried about me, Agent Brody?” That crooked smile broke through the haze that’d settled in over the past few minutes.
“I’m worried whoever is behind this isn’t finished.” Leigh took a few minutes to herself once the marshal took to the corridor. She hadn’t lied. She wanted to check in with Ava, but there was something else she needed to confirm. Something she needed to keep to herself for now. Leigh collected the strip of old newspaper from the floor where it’d fallen. The article had somehow managed to survive the scuffle between her and Dean, and she folded it back into her sweatpants pocket for safekeeping.
This case wasn’t about making a statement.
It was closing in. On her.
She sealed the room behind her, heading back into the lobby. Ava was there. Safe. Unfazed and ignorant of the confrontation Leigh had faced. Her adopted daughter waved from her tight circle of friends, but that wasn’t what held Leigh’s attention.
A hooded figure was stomping through the lobby doors.
Coming inside.
Leigh shoved through the mass of students and staff to head them off. Then pulled up short. A woman threw back her windbreaker stamped with OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER across the front. Recognition flared as she approached. It was the same medicolegal investigator who’d claimed the remains at the scene yesterday morning.
“Agent Brody.” The short, dark-haired woman flapped her windbreaker to dispel the water clinging to her. In vain. She thrust her hand out. Tendrils of hair clung to an oval face and emphasized big, round eyes. “Jenny Duval. We met yesterday when there was still a crime scene out front.”
“I remember. How… How did you get here?” Leigh tried to gauge the storm’s fury through the double glass doors. Rain still pounded the glass. “The shelter in place order is still in effect.”
“We got word the storm is moving east. Durham PD was able to clear a few of the roads between my office and campus, but cell towers and electricity are still down. I almost got T-boned by a sedan on the way here.” Jenny took in the crowd of students taking cover in every corner of the lobby, her smokey voice clear. “I tried reaching you over the radio, but there was no response from your end. Looks like you guys could use some supplies.”
Leigh brushed her hip. She must’ve left the radio in the women’s bathroom when she’d changed, but the emergency radio maintenance recovered should’ve picked something up. Hell, so much had happened between yesterday morning and today, she wasn’t sure which way was up. “What do you have?”
“Not much, but I managed to pack a couple boxes full of cereal, instant oatmeal, and a few granola bars.” Jenny hiked her hands to her hips. “Water bottles, too. I’ll need someone to help me unload them. Durham PD will be sending officers soon to escort students and staff off campus and back to their dorms. You just have to be patient for a little while longer.”
“We’ll take whatever you have. Thank you.” A collective sigh of relief breathed at her back, and the hunger knot in Leigh’s own stomach untwisted slightly. But that couldn’t be the only reason the medicolegal investigator was here. “Do you have any updates on Alice Dietz’s autopsy?”
“Yes.” Jenny patted her windbreaker, pulling her phone from one pocket. The screen lit up with a report already cued. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to hold up a flashlight for two hours while the ME conducted his examination. We’ll have to wait on toxicology results since the power is still out, but he did narrow down time of death for Alice Dietz between 10:00 p.m. Tuesday night and 2:00 a.m. Wednesday morning. There are a lot of factors that could affect that window, specifically the fact that the investigator in charge wouldn’t let us collect the body until closer to 10:00 a.m., but the ME is confident your vic was poisoned in that time frame. He thinks she was injected with equal amounts of cyanide and arsenic in her left eye based off blood tests we ran under one of the microscopes, which would shut down brain activity within a matter of a minute, maybe two. Most likely with a syringe.”
“Wait.” Leigh stepped closer to get a better view of the screen. “You’re saying that by injecting the compounds into Alice Dietz’s eye, she died almost immediately? No prolonged vomiting, dizziness, or other side effects?”
Up until now, Leigh had assumed the killer had wanted to cause as much pain and disorientation as possible. But the evidence said otherwise. He’d wanted his victims dead, but he hadn’t wanted them to suffer? Why use the arsenic and cyanide at all then? There were much more effective murder weapons than poisoning.
“Right,” Jenny said.
Leigh’s breath hitched.
I didn’t kill them, Leigh. Didn’t kill Teshia Elborne, either. You know that. His voice was in her head again. Trying to claw through the invisible barriers she’d put between them, but there were still too many unanswered questions.
“Were there any traces of chloroform around the victim’s mouth and nose?” It was the only explanation for why none of the victims had fought being stabbed in the eye with a needle.
Three distinct lines centered between Jenny’s brows. “I’m not sure the ME ran a test for chloroform. If your killer used it around the victim’s mouth and nose, there won’t be traces now, though. Too much time has passed.”
Right. And with the power still out, there was only so much the medical examiner’s office could do. Toxicology would have to wait. “I know you probably weren’t expecting more than to drop off supplies and update us on details from the autopsy, but we have three bodies quarantined in classrooms down the hall.”
“I don’t understand. Bodies? As in plural?” Jenny’s voice spiked in volume on the last word.
Leigh turned her back to the gathering students hopeful for updates on their impending release and lowered her voice. “Whoever killed Alice Dietz is still here. He’s killed two more victims with arsenic and cyanide presumably—a female student and a male professor—and we discovered the remains of an unidentified adult male. We’re trying not to instill panic, but there’s no telling who he might target next. You said Durham PD is in the process of clearing the roads now that the storm is moving east. That doesn’t leave us a lot of time. If you were able to make it onto campus, then our killer may try to escape. I can’t let that happen.”
“Tell me what you need me to do.” Jenny folded her arms across her chest, like she was trying to hold herself together. Medicolegal investigators were called after a body had been dropped. Not during. Still, she was the only resource they had at this point.
“The unidentified adult male. I need you to tell me as much about him as you can to get me an ID. He wasn’t killed like the others, which I think means he wasn’t part of the killer’s plans.”
Leigh nodded toward the west corridor branching off the lobby and started moving. Leading them to the sealed classroom, Leigh motioned Jenny inside and closed the door behind them. In three steps, she reached for the US Marshals Service windbreaker and pulled it back to reveal the body. Decomposition had caught up, throwing a wall of odor into her face, and it took every ounce of strength she had left not to gag.
“Whoa. That body is very… juicy.” Jenny crouched beside the remains, pressing the back of her wrist to her nose. “Strangulation marks tell me how he died, but since that doesn’t explain the purple marbling, I’m guessing he was submerged in water.”
“The basement flooded.” Leigh blocked out the memories vying for release. “He was stashed in a closet for at least twelve hours.”
“All right.” Jenny pulled a pair of latex gloves and her phone from her windbreaker. “Give me an hour. I’ll get you some answers.”