Page 32 of Silent Prey

Hallstrom’s gaze hardened slightly. “Yes, I followed her work. That doesn’t mean there was anything untoward between us.”

“Nobody said there was,” Finn answered smoothly. “Just trying to get the full picture here.”

“Well, that’s all there is to it,” Hallstrom said stiffly.

"Professor Hallstrom,” Sheila said, “three other women have died in similar circumstances, and all of them, including Diana, seem to have a connection to you."

Hallstrom turned his attention to Sheila, surprise flicking across his face before being quickly replaced once again with his default blank expression. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his tone as smooth and unreadable as his facial expressions.

"Amanda Hayes, Bethany Cole, and Kaylee Jensen. All of them were found dead in the past six weeks. Amanda Hayes and Kaylee Jensen both took classes with you years ago, and Bethany Cole grew up on your block. Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

Hallstrom showed no reaction except a faint twitch in his left cheek. "I'm a professor at a local university with hundreds of students passing through my classroom every year. I knew all of them, yes, but there's nothing unusual about that."

"Still,” Finn said, “you must admit it’s surprising how many of your students are turning up dead these days.”

“Oh, leave him alone,” Michelle cried suddenly. “He’s just a harmless old man.”

“About that,” Sheila murmured, studying the cane in Hallstrom’s hand and his stooped posture. From a distance the act might have convinced her, but up close it was far less convincing.

“You have a lot of neighbors in this building, don’t you?” she asked.

Hallstrom nodded uncertainly. “Yes…”

“Neighbors who’ve seen you coming and going a lot?”

Hallstrom didn’t answer. He seemed to sense where this was going.

“So if we talk to them,” she went on, “they’ll tell us how many times you’ve gone up and down those stairs with that cane, right? Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t fixed the elevator just for you.”

Hallstrom stared at her for several long seconds. Then he straightened his back and set the cane aside, no longer playing the feeble old man. “It was a ruse, okay?” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “I thought you were here about…something else.” His eyes darted away.

“You thought this was about your little dalliances with your students,” Finn said, then snorted with disdain. “I’m afraid it’s much more serious than that.”

“Where have you been today?” Sheila asked.

“At the university all day,” Hallstrom said without hesitation.

“What specifically were you doing?” Finn asked.

"I was lecturing," Hallstrom replied, a touch of impatience creeping into his voice. "In the morning I taught an advanced genetics course, and in the afternoon, it was basic biology. Plenty of students—not to mention faculty—saw me.”

“Dissect any animals today?” Finn asked.

Hallstrom’s eyes hardened. “Just because I enjoy studying the biology of animals, that doesn’t mean I’m a murderer. I don’t believe in violence on other human beings—it’s one of the great evils of our race. Were it up to me, we would all live in more harmony with nature, not seeking to destroy or dominate."

Just then, Finn’s phone began to ring. He rose and walked into the next room.

“He’s innocent, seriously,” Michelle said to Sheila. “There are dozens of people who can tell you where he was all day.”

It was clear that, though Hallstrom certainly had something to hide, he had a very strong alibi that put him in Salt Lake City at the time of the last two murders, assuming his students and colleagues confirmed it. Sheila decided she would have to speak with someone at the university about Hallstrom's late-night 'study sessions' with his students, but it seemed increasingly unlikely he was the murderer.

Before Sheila could answer Michelle, Finn cleared his throat. “Talk to you for a minute?” he said to Sheila.

She rose and joined him in the hallway. “What is it?” she asked, noticing the concern on his face.

His voice was low and somber. “Another woman just went missing on Antelope Island.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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