Page 32 of A Deeper Darkness
“Right,” Hart answered.
“Well, ballistics confirm that Donovan and Croswell were both shot with a 9 mm Beretta. And according to this, the bullets in both cases came from the same gun. There was a match in IBIS. It’s registered to Edward Donovan. Wait a second.” He looked at his admin. “When did they find the gun?”
Rama grimaced. “Sorry, boss. This morning. In the Dumpster on N Street, by that new construction.”
“Did anyone think to call me?” Fletcher grumbled.
“They wanted to run the tests first.”
The M.E. had stopped moving, was staring at him with her big sherry eyes. “Donovan was killed with his own gun? Then whoever killed him took out Croswell, too?”
Fletcher nodded. “Most likely scenario.”
Dr. Owens looked contemplative for a moment. She reached into her purse, pulled out a small plastic bag and handed it to Fletcher.
“You need to see this,” she said. “Eddie Donovan gave this to his mother on Sunday for safekeeping.”
Fletcher read the words on the tattered page.
DO THE RIGHT THING
“What is this? And why didn’t she give it to us immediately?”
“It slipped her mind. She’s not as young as she once was. And obviously it’s a threat of some kind. I’d assume whoever killed Donovan didn’t feel like he’d lived up to the bargain. Was a note sent to Croswell?”
“Not that I know of. Lonnie, would you be so kind as to ring Mrs. Croswell, and see if she’s seen anything like this?”
“Sure.” Hart stood, and nodded at their interloper. “Dr. Owens.”
“Detective Hart,” she replied.
Fletcher waited for Hart to leave, then turned to the M.E. angrily. “What else have you left out?”
“Nothing. Eleanor truly had forgotten the note. She didn’t hold it back from you on purpose. If anything, she needed it to make me believe Donovan’s shooting wasn’t a random carjacking. But it’s not the end of the world. If anything, it should give you more to go on. A handwritten note is better than nothing, right?”
Fletcher wanted to snap at the woman, but refrained. She was right, it was a clue. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that she’d brought it to him, instead of the victim’s mother. That meant he wasn’t trusted, and if the victim’s family didn’t trust him, regardless of whether they should or not, his job was ten times harder. That was why the old biddy had asked Dr. Owens to come to town. She didn’t believe in Fletcher.
Hart came back in the room. “Mrs. Croswell is looking through her husband’s things. She thinks she remembers seeing something like that.”
Fletcher nodded and swallowed his burning pride.
“I’d appreciate your help with this, Dr. Owens.”
You wanted it? You got it, sister.
Chapter Seventeen
McLean, Virginia
Susan Donovan
Susan pulled into a parking spot in front of St. John’s Academy. Just seeing the edifice made her sad. Eddie had been so excited when Ally was accepted.
Would she ever be able to look at the school again without his face popping up, sitting next to her in the car, staring at the school? “Do you think she’ll like it?” he’d asked, and Susan had assured him that Ally would love it. She’d love anything her father did. That was how Ally rolled.
Susan huffed out a sigh and got out of the car. She walked along the sidewalk to the school’s entrance and slipped inside. The headmaster’s office was to the right. His administrative assistant, Gloria, had stepped away—there was no one else around. Susan tamped down her annoyance. She didn’t like that her kid was all by herself, in trouble, scared and upset.
Ally was sitting on an adult-size chair in the reception area, her legs swinging over the edge as she fidgeted. Being still was always hard for Ally. She twiddled with her hair, bounced her little legs, chewed on her lip, tapped her fingers on the table. She was a restless child. Another thing she had in common with her father.
