He blew out his breath and leaned back in his chair. “So there are two possibilities that leap to mind. First is that you’re being set up, and second is that you’re a serial killer.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Or both,” I replied with a weak laugh.
“Or both,” he acknowledged, barest hint of a smile playing on his mouth, but the tension around his eyes hadn’t left.
“Sir, I’d like to point out that that there’s nothing to suggest any of these people were murdered.”
“True enough. However, I’ve spoken to Dr. Lanza and he’s concerned that all of them had similar causes of death, though right now he’s more worried that it could be something contagious, and he’s currently going back and forth with the CDC.”
That was a troubling thought, but I had a tough time believing it. If it was contagious then more people would be affected than just the ones on my not-invited-to-my-birthday-party list. The tox didn’t show anything because it wasn’t the sort of thing a tox screen could detect. At least that was my theory.
He cocked his head. “Do you think it’s all a giant coincidence?”
“Fuck no,” I said. “What’s that saying? ‘Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.’ ”
He steepled his fingers in front of him. “There’s a variation of that phrase that says ‘three times is enemy action.’ ”
Scowling, I nodded. “Can you tell me how this tip came in?” Because if that wasn’t sent by my mystery summoner or someone working with him, I’d eat my demon’s cat.
“Phone call, from a prepaid cell phone. Cash.”
Crap. There’d be no chance of tracing that.
“It’s a damn good thing that you told your sergeant about your connection to these victims,” he said. “But until we—”
He was cut off by the opening of the door. I glanced back to see who it was, deeply unsettled to see Mayor Peter Fussell enter and close the door behind him. I fought to keep any of it from showing on my face. The mayor gave me a tight smirk of a smile, which didn’t do a damn thing to relax me. He didn’t like me, and the feeling was completely mutual. Not long ago he’d attempted to coerce and threaten me into revealing confidential information on an active murder investigation. With the help of my sergeant, I’d recorded the conversation and had threatened him right back. Yeah, he didn’t love me.
“She’s still here, Robert?” he said as he pulled his overcoat off. “I’d have thought you’d have her gun and badge by now at the very least. And maybe have her in jail for good measure.”
My stomach dove into my toes. I was fully aware that the Chief of Police was appointed by the mayor. It didn’t matter how much Chief Turnham admired, respected, or even tolerated me—if it came down to a choice between me and his job, I knew which way it would fall.
Annoyance swept over Chief Turnham’s face. “I have nothing to arrest her for, Peter.”
The mayor dropped into the other chair and eyed me. “Three people dead. And you hated them all, didn’t you?”
I eyed him right back. “Is this an interrogation?” I asked, then looked over at my chief. “Because, if so, I want a lawyer.” I shifted my arm to reassure myself the cuff was still there, relieved that I’d been so stressed about being called in that I’d forgotten to slip it off. Yeah, the white hot rage I was feeling right now was all my own.
“It’s not an interrogation, Kara,” the chief replied. “However, until we can get this whole mess cleared up, I think it’s best if you go on administrative leave.”
Even though I was half-expecting it, the news was still a punch in the gut. “I haven’t done anything wrong, sir,” I managed.
“That we know of,” Fussell said with a dubious sniff.
Chief Turnham shot him a quelling glance, then gave me a more reassuring look. “It’ll be with pay, and it’s in your best interest. This way there can be no question of impropriety in the investigation.”
“Yes, sir.” I understood it. I really did. But I didn’t have to like it one bit.
“Stop coddling her, Turnham,” the mayor sneered. “Get a search warrant for her house, and get the evidence you need.”
I leveled a black glare at the mayor. “You don’t have the probable cause for a search warrant.”
He sat forward. “Then sign a consent-to-search and prove you’re innocent.”
“Not in this lifetime,” I shot back.
He laughed and looked over to the chief. “See? She’s obviously hiding something. You could fire her for insubordination for refusing to follow an order.”
“Oh, for God’s sakes, Peter,” the chief muttered.