Page 36 of Killer Clone

“Yeah, how can I forget? The celebrity.”

That wasn’t worth responding to. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. We’ve got another murder down here in Nashville.”

Deacon actually chuckled. “I’m sure there’s lots of murder in Nashville.”

This was going to be like pulling teeth. “I’m standing at a crime scene right now with that strange writing, the cuneiform, painted all over the walls. The same stuff that was on the victims in Claymore Township.”

“So what? It’s probably a copycat. That writing’s been in all the papers.”

“Very true. But we need to cover our bases here. I’m concerned we might’ve overlooked something.”

There was a big sigh on the other end of the line. “What do you want?”

“I need you to take another look at Maureen King.”

“And what am I looking for?”

“Anyone who might’ve shared the same interests. Anyone she might have spoken to online or in person. Anyone she might have met in a grocery store. We’re looking to see if she had an accomplice besides her husband. See if Maureen was close to someone who’s not currently in town.”

There was another deep exhale. “So, basically, a fishing expedition.”

“If you want to call it that, sure. Anyway, let me know if you find anything.”

After Stella hung up, she poked her head back inside and flagged down Anja. “Let’s go talk to the neighbors.”

The boxy ERT truck stood open in the parking lot at the bottom of the stairs. A neighbor with bad eyes, who didn’t looktoo closely at the furniture inside, might be forgiven for thinking Otto was moving on to a better living situation.

Stella doubted that was true. If he’d been involved in the murder of Patrick Marrion, Otto’s soul wasn’t anywhere good this evening.

The cold breeze blowing along the outdoor hallway cleaned her lungs.

Anja knocked on the door of number fifteen. “I’m Special Agent Anja Farrow. This is Special Agent Stella Knox. We’re from the FBI.” Her voice was soft, caring.

“I’m Lydia O’Donnell.” The older woman Stella and Hagen had spoken to earlier looked Anja up and down. “So? Is he deaf?” Tiny and skinny as a broomstick, Lydia rested both hands on the doorframe, the toes of her faded pink slippers poking over the edge of the apartment threshold.

“I’m afraid he’s dead, ma’am. Not deaf.” Stella braced herself for the woman’s reaction.

Anja stepped in to take Lydia’s arm when she swayed a bit. Although she was a good six inches taller than the elderly woman, Anja seemed to shrink in height so they were almost talking eye to eye. When she closed the space between them, the woman didn’t pull back.

“How are you holding up with all this going on? You’ve been very brave.”

Lydia poked her head around the doorpost. A forensic tech headed down the stairs, a rolled-up carpet over one shoulder. “It wasn’t a movie?”

Anja patted her hand. “It wasn’t a movie. It’s very tragic. Did you see or hear anything unusual today? Maybe around eleven this morning?”

The old woman blinked. “Yes, I told that one.” She pointed to Stella. “I heard a horror movie playing. I banged on the walls,but it went on and on. After ten minutes of banging, it stopped, though, just before I was about to call the super.”

“Did you see if Otto Walker had a visitor this morning? Before the…altercation?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Her voice wavered. “You’ll have to speak up. My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”

Anja pointed over her shoulder. “Why don’t we go inside? Sit you down.”

When Lydia nodded, Anja took her elbow and guided her into the living room. After the chaos and destruction in Otto’s unit, Lydia’s apartment looked as ordered as a model home. Or at least a model home in a retirement community.

A glass-fronted cabinet took up much of one wall, its shelves lined with decorative plates and brass knickknacks. A cane rested against the side of one of the room’s two armchairs. Their backs were protected with white doilies, and they faced a small television mounted on an antique cabinet. The varnish on the wooden coffee table had long lost its shine, but a pile of coasters next to a remote control stood ready to protect what was left.

Stella watched as Anja helped Lydia into her seat. “I’m sorry, did you know Otto Walker well?”

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