“Last I heard,” he snaps, “that’s not your business.”
“Only if you kill them.”
He leans forward and slaps the table. “I didn’t fucking kill anyone. I serve this badge.” He points at said badge. “I do my job and beyond, every single day of my damn life. I risk my life to serve and protect. I loved Lori. She was my friend. She was one of us. This is my place in the world, and you take it from me, for doing nothing but caring?”
He’s got about five too many emotional chips, five too many to be our killer. Just the right amount to be blackmailed. “Did anyone ask you to do anything to save Detective Williams?”
“No, I was not blackmailed,” he says. “I’m not stupid enough to believe if I kill myself like Redman supposedly did, that she gets to live. And yes, I know the details of the case. I asked around.”
He means Roger told him.
Fucking Roger.
“What did you talk about with Roger?” I ask.
“My suspension.”
“And he said?”
His lips thin. “To tell you the truth.”
He cuts his stare, lying as he declares he was told to tell the truth. Roger said something else to him. Whatever the case, I’m done with him and Roger. I stand up and walk to the door, glancing over my shoulder, to say, “Go back to work.” I don’t wait for his reply. I exit the room and find Houston waving to me from another room.
Houston, who is just a little too in my face right now.
I consider walking on past him but who knows what desperation—his new nickname—might do if left unsupervised. I close the space between me and him and step inside the room with him, aware that this could be filmed, and I don’t like it. “Well?” he asks.
“What didn’t you see on camera that you want to know, Houston?”
“Your opinion.”
“I sent him back to work,” I say. “That should say it all.”
“I don’t like the Lily thing,” he says.
“Have Morris watched. If he’s lying, you’ll know.”
“Who the hell is going to watch him? Everyone likes him. They’ll protect him. Can the Feds handle this?”
“Can I handle it? Yes.”
My cellphone rings, and it’s Beth’s number. I answer. “I know what it is. I know what the poison is. I ran a test on a whim. I read about a case and—”
“Hold that thought,” I say, glancing at Houston. “I’ll call you right back.” I disconnect and talk to Houston. “I’ll handle Morris. Get someone out to ask questions about the pig. I’ll talk to Sally later today. Anything else?”
“The mayor. The press. The serial killer story is out there.”
“Do the obvious. The killings are not random. The general public is not at risk. The end.”
“We don’t know how he or she picks their victims.”
He or she. Roger has been running his mouth. “Yes, we do. This is personal, this is about me, which is why you tried to get me fired.”
“I tried to protect you.”
“What you fail to understand, but Murphy does, is that when someone tries to bend me over, I get all excited about the moment they learn that it’s me who is going to bend them over. Tell that to whoever needs to hear it.” I turn and head for the door.
“What the hell does that even mean, Lilah?”
“You can figure it out,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him. “I have confidence in you.”
I exit the hallway and start walking, grabbing my phone as I do to redial Beth. “Tell me,” I order.
“I was reading an article about a teen who poisoned her father. The only way we found out in law enforcement was she told a friend.”
I enter the stairwell and stop walking, out of fear the service will cut out. “How does that help us?”
“I tested for that drug that that teen used, and it came back positive, Lilah.”
“Holy hell you’re good. What is it?”
“Barium acetate. It’s used for a variety of commercial reasons like drying paints and varnishes, but in chemistry, it’s a tool to prepare other acetates. It’s a catalyst in organic synthesis. Bottom line, it’s lethal if ingested, and we don’t commonly test for it.”
“Where would one get it?”
“It could be in a manufacturing facility for paint, lubricants and a variety of other things. Or in a lab—this teen, who killed her father, got it from her high school science lab.”
“Do you have it in your lab here?”
“I’ve ordered it on a few occasions, but the forensics teams are more likely to have it on hand.”
“Are you sure you don’t have any in stock?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. What are you thinking?”
That I was right. Someone in forensics or even the medical examiner’s office is involved in this. It’s not the first time I’ve thought someone might have wanted Beth out of the picture. And when Beth left, Melanie took over the case. “That you’re a badass chick who needs to keep your ass in Europe until further notice.” I disconnect.
It’s time for me to visit the medical examiner’s office.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I text Zar on my way down the stairs: Leaving through the same door I came in. If you don’t know where that is, meet me at the medical examiner’s office.
North or South, he replies back.
I don’t do North or South, I answer. The door closest to Starbucks.
His response is fast: There are four Starbucks within a mile radius, which I know because I drink a lot of Starbucks.
Zar loves Starbucks. Who’d have thunk it?
I type: The one that’s really tiny and has some sort of statue out front.
Okay, he replies.
Okay.
That’s what I’d said to Houston that had really pissed him off, but really, what’s wrong with that answer? It’s an acknowledgment, minus messy emotion. Much like Roger saying yes. He chose Morris for a reason. He didn’t get defensive. He didn’t explain his reasons either, but I didn’t expect that he would. A lot of people would feel the need to explain, though. And what is this thought process telling me? God, I need to get to Purgatory because I can feel myself trying to realize something. I need calm, quiet, alone time.
I finish my walk and exit to the breakroom again, only to stop dead in my tracks when I find Roger and Lily sitting at the table playing that fucking game of cards. All of them, all the damn card games. He used to make me play them, too. “New trainee?” I ask.
Lily is sitting with her back to me and twists around. “Oh God no. He’s just helping me use my lunch hour to calm my mind and think about the investigation.”
Roger’s lips twitch. “Worked for you.”
It never fucking worked for me. I just wanted to beat him, and then when I figured out how, he was pissy about it. So, I started pretending to lose. “I thought you were leaving,” I say.
“I was grabbing a cup of coffee for the road and then Lily burst into the break area crying. And, here we are.”
He hates crying more than I do, as in, it all but makes the man twitch. And yet he stayed? What the fuck am I missing? What does he know about Lily and Sergeant Morris that I don’t because that has to be what this is? He thinks there’s a connection between her and the murders. I don’t. And if he’s right and I’m wrong, he’ll tell me while gloating later. I can handle that. I head for the door. I expect to have to repel Roger. I don’t. He lets me go.
Good.
If he’s that into her as a suspect, I can focus elsewhere.
I head toward the subway and dial Tic Tac. “Yes, your highness.”
“This guy you’re dating is making you quite the smartass.”
“Why would you blame him?”
“Whatever is new shines the brightest until it burns out.”
“And if it doesn’t burn out, then what?”
“Rare,” I say. “But it happens.” I don’t wait for an answer. “I need to find out if any lab in the city ordered barium acetate or if anyone connected to the case has access to it.”
“Is that the poison used?”
“Yes. That’s it. Apparently, it’s common in labs, and it may be hard to pin down, but I need you to do it anyway.”
“Right. It’s hard. Tic Tac to the rescue. Changing topics: Political donations to your father’s campaign. A long list of law enforcement. He’s their guy. They love him.”
And my father apparently loves the Society, who if I’m correct, just killed those three women last night. Who I’m certain is behind my mother’s murder. “Anyone I need to know about?”
“It’s everyone. They did some event for him. Just about everyone in the building donated at least five dollars a week from their paychecks, including Detective Williams. Larger donations came from your old mentor, Roger. That new Chief, Chief Houston, but they donated the same day as the drive. And they make a lot more money than the rest.”
“In other words, this is getting me nowhere.”
“Not necessarily. Redman and that soap opera star also donated. Her sister did not, but she lived in California.”