Page 54 of So Twisted

“Yeah. Dr. Victor Lawson. Also an animal behaviorist. Extremely well-regarded but suffered from the aftershock of Dr. Clement’s fall from grace.”

“They worked together?”

“Yes. It looks like Dr. Lawson was a mentor to Dr. Clement. Taught her a lot of his methods for interpreting animal behavior. When she started quoting his research in her defense of her behavior modification efforts, he cut off ties with her and denounced her methods as immoral. There was a brief back and forth between the two of them in a couple of publications before people finally stopped wanting to listen to Dr. Clement at all. It looks like Dr. Lawson is still getting good work consulting with zoos and wildlife sanctuaries, but the scientific community has pulled back. They haven’t abandoned him, per se. He still publishes, but it’s all his own research. He’s not working with any of the major universities or think tanks anymore.”

“Any sign that he blames Dr. Clement for his fall from grace?”

“Nothing explicit, but Alison Chen was his intern for a summer, and he was hired by Marcus Reeves when James Hawkins refused to train animals for him anymore. That didn’t work out either since Dr. Lawson was likewise appalled at the condition of the animals.”

“Let me guess,” Michael said. “He was involved with Dr. Vasquez too.”

“Yes. Personally involved.”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “Ah.”

"Yep. Left her when her drinking on the job became publicly known. That damaged his reputation for a little while, too."

“So why now?” Michael asked. “Some of these events occurred years ago.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t until last year when Dr. Clement burned him that he suffered any serious damage. People pretty quickly started to pity him for Dr. Vasquez drinking, and zoos forgave him for his actions when it became clear that Reeves was unethical. I don’t think anyone held firing Alison Chen against him.”

“So this was the straw that may have broken the camel’s back,” Faith summarized.

“Looks that way.” Cuthbert checked his watch. “We have a couple of hours of daylight left. You guys want to take a ride to Dr. Lawson’s property?”

Faith nodded and looked at Turk. “How about it, boy? Ready to catch a bad guy?”

Turk barked exuberantly.

“The leader has spoken,” Cuthbert said. “Let’s go.”

Faith cautioned herself not to get her hopes up too much. Their other leads hadn’t worked out. But she felt good about this one. She was sure they had the real killer in their sights.

She could only hope that this time, her intuition was telling her the truth.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Dr. Lawson lived in Mineola, a small community a half-hour’s drive southeast of Council Bluffs. His property, like Dr. Clement’s, consisted of a house with an attached animal habitat. His house was somewhat smaller than Dr. Clement’s, but the habitat was larger, closer in size to James Hawkins’ place. Like Hawkins’ property, the habitat was actually several enclosures, each housing a different type of animal. The largest enclosure contained a family of mountain lions. The lions crowded against the fence and watched the police cruiser as it passed by.

“I never realized how many people own big animals out here,” Detective Cuthbert remarked.

“That’s probably something people don’t notice unless those animals escape,” Michael replied.

“Or until someone starts murdering people,” Faith added.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t get them tostopmurdering people,” Cuthbert said.

The four of them left the vehicle and approached the house. Almost immediately, Turk’s ears pricked up. He held his head high and sniffed the air, eyes wide and alert.

Faith and Michael shared a look. Faith almost wanted Michael to say something to challenge Turk’s reaction, but that little bout of anger faded quickly. Unless Turk was greatly mistaken, they were about to apprehend their killer.

Cuthbert, at least, seemed to take Turk’s reaction seriously. He drew his weapon and positioned himself in front of the door, ready to act immediately if Lawson presented any kind of threat.

Faith knocked on the door. Michael drew his own weapon and stood on Faith’s other side. Turk crouched, his body coiled like a spring.

The door opened. A short, balding man with a sharp goatee and half-moon glasses frowned at the arrivals and asked, “What’s going on?”

Before any of the humans could respond, Turk shot through the door like a bullet, barking madly. He nearly bowled over the balding man, who cried out and threw his hands against the door to steady himself.

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