Chapter 22
Red and blue lights filled the parking lot of the Park Plaza professional building. It was an upscale office complex, home to doctors, dentists, and other medical types.
Dietrich snapped photos of the gruesome sight. First responders swarmed. An ambulance was on the scene, along with the medical examiner's van. Brenda snapped on a pair of pink nitrile gloves and went to work.
A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered.
A woman lay on her back at the base of the steps that led to the main entrance, her blank eyes fixed on the azure sky. Blood pooled around the body on the asphalt. Two wounds in her chest had done the dirty business. She had been shot as she approached the building. Blood soaked her cream blouse.
Two spent shell casings littered the ground nearby. With any luck, the forensic team would pull a print.
Not far, a fast-food bag littered the ground. The spilled drink inside seeped through the bag.
The sheriff looked on with a grim face.
"Anybody see what happened?" I asked.
The sheriff pointed to a brunette woman in her mid-30s wearing a gray pantsuit, sobbing nearby.
She looked terrified. "Said the assailant was waiting by the entrance, smoking a cigarette, wearing a hoodie, dark sunglasses, and a surgical mask.
The victim approached, and he put two bullets into her chest. Then he grabbed her purse and took off running that way.
" The sheriff pointed to a gap in the hedges that separated this parking lot from the next.
I glanced around for security cameras that may have captured the scene.
"Who’s the deceased?"
"Dr. Miriam Renick. At least, that's what the witness says.”
JD and I approached the witness, and I flashed my badge. "I'm Deputy Wild. This is Jack Donovan, Special Crimes."
She nodded, wiped her eyes, and sized us up.
"Can you tell me exactly what you saw?"
She repeated what the sheriff had told us.
"What’s your name, ma'am?”
"Elizabeth Halford. Dr. Elizabeth Halford. But you can call me Liz."
"Do you think you could describe the assailant?”
"It's really hard to say. I was so traumatized by the whole thing. I knew Miriam. Her office is just down the hall from mine. We would grab coffee occasionally and discuss cases, in a professional sense, of course."
"Anything you can offer might be helpful," I said.
Elizabeth nodded. "He was maybe 6 feet tall.
Caucasian. He wore a hoodie, dark sunglasses, and a surgical mask.
" Her face wrinkled. "Which I thought was weird because he was also holding a cigarette in his hand.
But to tell you the truth, I never saw him take a drag.
Granted, I was just passing by. In hindsight, it seemed like he was waiting for Miriam, and the cigarette was just an excuse. "
"You’d make a good detective," I said.
"I'm just observant. It's part of my job to notice people, their behaviors, their nonverbal cues." She paused. "People will lie, but their body language almost always tells the truth."
"You’re a psychiatrist?”
She nodded.
"Like I said, you'd make a good detective."
Liz forced a smile, "Thank you. But I don't think I could do what you do. Too much violence. I suppose it’s hard not to be affected by that over time. How do you manage?"
"With a lot of whiskey," Jack said.
She admonished him with her look. "That's not healthy, Deputy…”
"Donovan," Jack said.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. So many details right now. It’s hard to keep everything in my head."
"Understood."
"He took her purse," Liz said with a furrowed brow.
"But it was an afterthought." She squinted, picturing the scene in her mind.
"He dropped the cigarette when Miriam got out of her car. He approached, drew the pistol from a pocket in his hoodie, and fired twice before Miriam even had a chance to react.” She shivered.
“He took a step away, then turned back, snatched the purse, and ran right through that gap in the hedges," she said, pointing.
After a moment's consideration, she said, "This was an assassination. "
I shared a look with JD, then asked Liz, "Can you think of anyone who wanted to harm Dr. Renick?"
Liz paused for a moment as she thought. "Well, I know that Miriam was going through a pretty contentious divorce."
I shared another look with Jack.
Liz asked, "Do you think her husband could have done this, or perhaps he hired someone?”
“You read my mind. Like I said, good detective.”
Liz blushed. "Maybe in another life, Deputy."
“I only met her husband once, but as I recall, he had a similar build to the assailant. The hoodie kept me from getting a good look at his face. But I think this guy was younger.” She frowned. “I can’t be sure.”
"So, we’re looking for someone fit and athletic.”
Liz nodded. "Yes. This guy was calm and cool about it. Matter of fact. Seemed professional. Or maybe I just watch too much TV."
I smiled. "It never hurts to be suspicious."
"See, that's what I’m talking about. The long-term effects of being suspicious of everyone.
Does that affect your personal relationships?
Do you have trust issues?" Before I could even answer, she said, "Of course you do.
" She read my uncomfortable expression. "Sorry.
It's a bad habit. I tend to read people, dig into their psyche, their deepest, darkest fears and secrets.
I just can't help myself. I find it fascinating. "
I changed the subject. "Is there anyone else Miriam had issues with? Other tenants in the building? Disgruntled patients?"
My question sparked a thought. Liz said, "Miriam told me about one woman who was fixated on her.
A patient. Developed an unhealthy attachment.
Wanted to be friends socially. She would bring coffee and doughnuts.
Gifts. Miriam said that she even showed up at the house uninvited once and wanted to chit-chat. "
"Do you happen to know her name?"
"No. Of course not. That would be unethical to discuss private health information outside of a clinical setting.”
"What's wrong with two doctors having a chat over lunch about patients? I'm sure it happens all the time."
"As long as the data is kept anonymous, there's generally not a compliance issue.”
"So you have no idea who this patient with the unhealthy fixation might be?"
Liz hesitated for a moment. "I do know that Miriam dropped her as a patient and referred her to another therapist. I'm sure if you could subpoena her files, you might be able to compile a list of women who were recently referred out."
"Thank you," I said. "I need to get contact information from you. It would be best if you came down to the station and made a full statement." I dug into my pocket and handed her a card. "Please get in touch if you remember any other details."
She nodded, and we exchanged information.
Paris and her news crew had arrived on scene.
We searched for the cigarette butt and found dozens of contenders. It was a popular place for smokers. I told the forensic guys to collect them all. Maybe we could isolate some DNA, but if the shooter never took a drag, it was unlikely.
JD and I stepped inside the professional building and walked across the atrium to the elevators. The Florida sunshine spilled in through the skylights, and Koi fish swam in the pond. If you hung by the edge of the water long enough, they’d gather looking for food.
We took the elevator up to the fourth floor and found Dr. Renick's office. The receptionist behind the desk still hadn't heard the bad news. Renick’s office was on the other side of the building from the parking lot. I flashed my badge and made introductions.
"What's going on out there?” Stacy asked. “I heard someone was shot in the parking lot. Do you have any idea who?" Panic crept into the receptionist’s eyes as that feeling in her gut became clear. "Dr. Renick was supposed to be back 30 minutes ago."