Then he thought about the lights on the fifty-second floor, or the “death floor,” as he now imagined it to be. If Cowl was there, was the woman meeting him for some reason? He took the elevator up to that floor, poked his head out, didn’t see anyone, and got off.
The place was apparently no longer an active investigation scene. He imagined Ewes’s parents were frantically traveling here from out of the country. All that way to look at your daughter on a morgue slab.
He could hear nothing other than the sparse traffic from down on the street and the occasional plane going by. He tried to figure out in which direction the light he’d seen come on was located.
He started down a corridor and then turned to the left. And stopped.
The blue-and-yellow police tape was strung across the doorway.
The storage room where Sara Ewes had died.
Devine decided he needed to see it for himself. This didn’t tie directly into what Emerson Campbell had tasked him to do, but if something nefarious was going on at Cowl’s business, Ewes’s death might be connected somehow. At least he couldn’t rule it out at this point.
And Devine had cared greatly for Sara Ewes. He needed to understand why she had taken her own life. Looking at the place where she had drawn her final, tortured breaths seemed like a good start.