Page 33 of The Killer She Knew

“Ava, a girl is dead, and I’m responsible for finding out what happened to her and making sure no one else gets hurt. This is what I do, and I can’t do that job if I’m splitting my attention between you and trying to stop the man who hurt her.”

“You’re not even going to try, are you? Everything you said before, it was all a lie. You’re always going to put your job ahead of me.” The vitriol—unlike anything Leigh had witnessed—leaving Ava’s mouth invaded and pooled at the base of her spine. “I’m never going to be enough for you.”

Ava didn’t wait for an answer, ripping free of Leigh’s hold and heading for the stairs. In seconds, the fifteen-year-old was gone. Taking what little of Leigh’s heart was left with her.

“You all right?” Ford had managed to sneak up on her.

She didn’t understand how that was possible considering his size and intensity, but that wasn’t important right now. Her nose burned as she stared after Ava. Where had she gone wrong? Why couldn’t she figure this out? She wouldn’t cry at the utter failure tearing through her. Not here, and sure as hell not now. “I don’t have a choice. We have a body.”

Leigh closed in on the remains.

“I think it’s safe to say Pierce Morrow isn’t our killer,” he said. “He’s been cuffed downstairs for the past hour, but Tamra Hopkins doesn’t exactly fit our victimology.”

“She knew of Alice Dietz’s and Morrow’s affair. Told me she’d accidentally read Alice’s messages when she’d mistaken her roommate’s phone for hers.” Crouching a few inches awayfrom the body, she took in everything. The arrangement of Tamra’s limbs. Not handled with care but as though she’d been dropped. No blood or blunt force trauma from what she could see without turning the body over. Lack of bruising around the wrists and neck. There weren’t any signs of a struggle, but healthy sophomores didn’t just drop dead. “We need to talk to her friends. Find out how long she’s been gone and what she might’ve been doing up here.”

“Can you two handle that?” Ford asked the campus police officers obviously at a loss—in shock—a few feet away. University campus police handled the same types of crimes as every other law enforcement agency. Assaults, rape, theft, robbery, car accidents. But here in pristine Durham, New Hampshire, death had made its violent entrance twice in the past two days.

Neither seemed overly committed to the task, but Leigh had to trust they’d follow through. Every detail mattered. She searched her borrowed sweats for a set of latex gloves. Right, those were in her other pants.

Ford offered a bright blue pair from above. Knowing exactly what she needed. How did he do that? First with the cuffs he’d let her borrow downstairs, then now with the gloves. Just as he’d known not to push her for a date after that kiss and to give her space where Ava was concerned. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he could read her mind. Or maybe she really was that transparent.

She snapped the gloves into place. Protocol dictated no one was to touch or search a body until the medical examiner or coroner had a chance to assess it, but the ME wouldn’t be able to get here until the storm was done tearing Durham apart piece by piece. And Leigh needed answers. She pried Tamra’s right eye open with her index finger and thumb, careful not to jar the body.

Ford’s body heat pressed her right shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“Teshia Elborne was poisoned with arsenic and cyanide eighteen years ago, but no matter how many times the ME searched for a puncture wound, she couldn’t find it.” Nothing in this eye. Leigh moved on to the left. “It wasn’t until I was reviewing the investigation files with Morrow a few days later and Durham PD had determined Dean Groves had killed her that I noticed something off about one of the victim’s eyes. It was irritated more than the other.”

There. Up under the left eyelid. Out of sight unless you knew right where to look. She leaned back to give Ford room. “See? Same irritation in her left eye.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He was right above her. Close enough her breath skimmed his jawline. “The son of a bitch injected the poison into his victims’ eyes?”

“The ME will most likely find the same irritation in Alice Dietz’s eye once he’s able to complete the autopsy.” Leigh withdrew her hand, looking over the body. She’d seen too many in her life. Starting when she’d been seventeen years old. Only a couple years older than Ava was now. She hadn’t stomached it well then either. The guilt was back, trying to get her to choose between her old life and the new. But was there a right answer? She wasn’t sure.

Tamra Hopkins looked as though she’d simply been picked up and dropped in the middle of this floor. No blood or skin beneath her polished fingernails. Almost… ambushed.

“There are no signs of a struggle on her arms. No bruising or blood that says she fought back. The killer would’ve had to have separated her from the herd downstairs. Which meant she trusted whoever wanted to get her alone. She came up here willingly.” Leigh wasn’t sure who she was talking to. Herself or Ford.

“One of the other professors?” Ford asked. “Or a student?”

“They’re not the only ones in the building.” She looked up at him.

Surprise arced into the marshal’s face, and he drew back. Going still all over again. It was one of his patterns. A coping mechanism to handle the overwhelming emotions he either wasn’t comfortable with or didn’t want her to see. “You think one of the campus police officers had something to do with this?”

She tried to superimpose the two officers’ frames over the one she’d faced in the basement. One fit more than the other. A little leaner, more muscular. Someone who took his job seriously and stayed in shape, but the height didn’t match. Neither of the campus police officers was as tall as the man from the basement maze.

She’d made the mistake before of overlooking the fact law enforcement officers were themselves in the perfect position to commit murder, and she’d nearly paid for her oversight with her life. Detailed knowledge of crime scenes and forensics, automatic authority, familiarity with the campus. Maybe even the tunnels below it. It all gave their unsub the advantage in this sick game. Campus police would certainly have access to a key-coded biomedical lab where they’d sourced the arsenic and cyanide used to kill all three victims. Not to mention control of the security surveillance systems.

Leigh tried to memorize every line, every curve of the victim in front of her. They wouldn’t be able to move the body until the medical examiner got here. And who knew when the storm would clear? For now, they could only preserve the scene.

But something was wrong with this picture.

She shoved to stand, unstable. It was a wonder she was still upright after only a few hours of sleep, suffering hypothermia symptoms, running off two candy bars, and riding the emotional upheaval of raising a teenaged terrorist. But she didn’t reallyhave a choice. “If someone was coming at you with a syringe—no matter what you believed was in it—would you hold still to let them stick it in your eye?”

“I think I would do whatever it took to make sure I didn’t get stabbed.” Ford slipped his hands into his slacks pocket, focused on the body. “But I’m one of those graced with a phobia of needles.”

“So why didn’t she fight back?” And why hadn’t she put it together until now? Teshia Elborne. Alice Dietz. It’d been right in front of her for eighteen years. Leigh pointed to the body. “Why didn’t Alice Dietz fight back? Even Teshia Elborne’s body didn’t show any signs of a struggle. Their clothes were intact. There was no indication of pulled hair, DNA in their mouths from a defensive bite, or vaginal trauma. It’s like they?—”

“Were unconscious when he poisoned them.” A brightness she hadn’t witnessed before lit up Ford’s dark eyes. It was the same feeling she experienced when a case took a turn and the pattern became more clear. Addictive and satisfying. As though her whole life had led to that exact moment. Ford turned his attention back to the victim at their feet. “He never even gave them a chance.”

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