Page 27 of The Killer She Knew

Leigh tried to shake her head, but the headache punching at the back of her skull made it all the more difficult. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never taken an emergency preparedness class.”

“No, I mean. Look. It’s you.” Ford raised his flashlight farther up the opposite wall of the shelves, highlighting a cork board full of posted notices and notes.

She waded through the water nearing her hips. She’d been wrong before. The water was rising faster than she’d originally estimated. Time was working against them here and in her body. But none of that compared to the chill freezing her to the core as she stared at a photo… of her. Except it wasn’t just one. At least a dozen. Cut out from printed newspaper articles, headlines highlighted and pinned to the board. Meticulously collected and displayed on a board at least three feet in width and three feet in height. Every inch dedicated to her.

“Some of these are from when my father was arrested for murder.”

Over twenty years ago. The edges had yellowed over the years, but there was no mistaking their age. Newspapers hadn’t accepted the digital age then. Everything concerning her father’s case had been in print and delivered to her family’s door each morning. To ensure she understood her family was no longer wanted.

“He’s obviously kept these preserved.” Ford scanned the rest of the makeshift shrine to her career. Her life. If he’d ever wanted a look inside her head, it was displayed right in front of him. “Why leave them here to be destroyed?”

“No one expected a hurricane to reach this far inland.” Leigh focused on one newspaper clipping. She thought she’d seen every piece of coverage concerning her career. It was, after all, hard to miss, but she hadn’t seen this one. It’d been printed from what looked to be a low-level news site. She tore it from its pin. “He must’ve been forced to abandon it. Give me your phone.”

“What for?” Ford asked.

“Mine is dead, and I want a picture of these clippings in case the room floods and we lose more evidence.” Leigh took his offering and got shots of the photos, including the one she’d torn from its post, and pocketed the clipping itself.

“Good point.” The marshal moved into the rest of the room, taking his flashlight with him, but Leigh could only catalog the clippings in glimpses. “It feels like he’s trying to get your attention. Coming to your alma mater, killing Alice Dietz with an old MO, targeting your mentor. Like he has something against you.”

“I have that effect on people.” This couldn’t be it. A bunch of old newspapers weren’t enough to understand the killer’s motive or final endgame. There had to be more here. A reason he’d led her to this room. Leigh turned her focus to the rest of the space. The flashlight shook uncontrollably in her hand. To the point she nearly dropped it. But she held on long enough for the beam to land on the largest piece of furniture in this room, and her stomach knotted tight.

A tub. Complete with a bottle of bleach and a smaller bottle of blue dish soap. The same combination of chemicals used to wash the victim’s body clean. A darker lump took shape at the other end, hidden near the drain. Drawn, Leigh fought the rising flood and crossed the room. A backpack? She hauled it out of the tub by the top handle, setting it on the edge, and ripped the top open. Brushed metal reflected the flashlight beam back at her. A laptop. The weight of the bag shifted as a textbook fell forward.She went for one of the smaller pockets and drove her hand inside. Pulling a phone with a clear plastic case from the depths. Alice’s phone.

Leigh’s breath caught as she scanned the room a second time. “I think Alice Dietz was killed in this room.”

SEVENTEEN

Durham, New Hampshire

Thursday, October 10

6:34 a.m.

The water had gotten too deep.

She and Ford had attempted to grab everything they could carry out, but the scene was gone. The containers of bleach and dish soap, a compressed syringe, the newspaper clippings, Alice Dietz’s backpack—it was all that was left. Whatever secrets had been preserved in that room were now lost. Everything else had gone straight to the forensic team for eventual processing with nothing more than their mobile kits used on the crime scene.

Another shiver wracked through her arms. Pain ricocheted down into her hands. The cold wouldn’t relent. Two students had been nice enough to come together to supply her with a dry hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweats once she’d emerged from the basement, but cuddling Ava hadn’t done a damn bit of good to bring her core temperature up. She’d only gotten a couple hours of broken sleep on the floor, and it was taking a toll onher brainpower. “Who says I never let you have junk food for breakfast?”

Ava licked the remnants of melted chocolate from her fingers. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to advocate for protein, greens, and fruit to promote my growing body.”

Rain fell in sheets outside the double doors, though the winds had died down considerably. There was a chance Mother Nature had gotten tired of beating this small university town black and blue, but it would be hours before Durham PD reopened the roads. Hours which their killer would surely use to his advantage.

Leigh tried to hug her knees closer to contain what little body heat she had left. Really, she just didn’t want to think about what could happen if they didn’t catch this killer. “Please don’t say those words to me again.”

“What? Growing bodies?” A spark of amusement lit up Ava’s coffee-brown eyes. She had the uncanny ability to find almost anyone’s weakness and use it against them. Like a superpower. “What about intercourse?—”

“Finish that sentence, and I’ll handcuff you to me for the rest of the day.” A chill that had nothing to do with the beginning symptoms of hypothermia and everything to do with not wanting to have this discussion in the middle of a lobby surrounded by students swept through her. “I’m sure your new friends would appreciate the entertainment.”

Ava narrowed her eyes on Leigh in challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I have them right here.” She pulled a set of cuffs from the back of her waistband. “What’s the point of making threats if I can’t back them up?”

Pure, unfiltered shock contorted the fifteen-year-old’s expression before she shoved to stand and rejoin the friends she’d made. One of them being Tamra Hopkins, Alice Dietz’sroommate. The redhead gave Leigh a half-smile as Ava slid into their ranks.

“Coward.” She’d have to file that threat away for later. For now, she’d try to salvage any melted chocolate from Ava’s candy bar wrapper. A pair of dress shoes and slacks penetrated her peripheral vision. Leigh froze. With her tongue slicked against the inside of the wrapper as if it’d been superglued.

“Please tell me you didn’t get that out of the trashcan like a raccoon.” Ford crouched beside her, somehow looking as handsome and clean as ever. He’d been in that water too. Maybe not for as long, but he didn’t seem to be suffering a single symptom. That just wasn’t fair.

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