Page 30 of Her Last Word

Page List


Font:  

He pushed open the door, drawing out his badge as he entered the room. “I’m Detective Adler with the Richmond police. I spoke to you about Kaitlin Roe.”

Her gray hair was arranged in a loose topknot, and dark-rimmed glasses emphasized gray eyes. She rose and extended her hand. “Yes, yes, of course. Come in. I’m Susan Saunders. We heard about Kaitlin last night. How is she?”

“On the mend. She’ll be fine. I’m looking into her attack and had a few questions.” And he was honest enough with himself to admit his curiosity for Kaitlin ran deeper than the case.

She gestured toward a seat in front of her desk. “How may I be of service?”

He adjusted his tie and deliberately kept his body language relaxed. “Is she a well-liked teacher?”

“Yes. And she knows PR and can teach it. She can spin a question or answer in a dozen different ways.”

“You’ve sat in on her classes?”

“Sure, a couple of them. She is quiet outside the classroom, but when she’s in front of the kids, she’s very animated. She’s also young and attractive, which has won her some attention from the male students.”

He’d not witnessed this animated side of Kaitlin. He tried to imagine her smiling and her eyes lighting up with laughter. “Any of these students try to ask her out?”

“That’s against university policy.”

A horny student wouldn’t have let policy get in the way of hooking up with Kaitlin. He was older, supposedly wiser than the young men in her class, and he thought about her too often.

Susan turned toward her computer. “I had a student email footage from a class project Kaitlin arranged back in early December. Remember the arsonist who burned several row houses in the city?”

“I do.”

“Two of the buildings destroyed are within blocks of the school. Kaitlin took several classes over there to film and discuss their reactions.” Susan turned her computer screen toward Adler and hit “Play.”

The cell phone footage of the class started off shaky and out of focus. Kaitlin appeared on screen. Her head bent, she was listening to several student comments and then pointing to the burned-out wreckage of the building. He’d been to that same site several times.

The camera swung back around, capturing Kaitlin again. This time she was explaining why it was important to be a witness to moments like this.

“Can you send me that?” Adler asked.

“Sure.” As he recited his email address, she typed it in and hit “Send.”

“Has Kaitlin had anybody hassling her?”

“No.”

“Does she date?”

“If she does, she never mentioned it.”

“Anyone following her around or sending her notes?”

“No, not that I know of. Certainly none of the students have stepped out of line with her.” Susan hesitated. “So you haven’t caught the guy who did this?”

“Not yet.”

Susan drew in a breath. “Surely what happened to her isn’t linked to the Gina Mason project?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have an idea, or you wouldn’t be here asking about it.”

“I’m gathering facts right now.”

Susan arched a brow. “Should I be concerned?”

He handed her one of his cards. “No. But if you do see anything, would you call me?”

“Sure.”

He made his way through the building and out to his car. He pulled up email on his phone, selected the one Susan had just sent, and opened the video attachment. He replayed the video, finding his gaze drawn to Kaitlin. It was hard to stop looking at her. Muttering an oath, he shut off the recording. Logan was right. He needed facts, not feelings.

While waiting in the hospital lobby for Dr. Coggin, Adler called the Oak Croft Retirement Center and learned visiting hours lasted until eight. He checked his watch and asked them to inform Joshua North he’d be by soon.

The elevator doors opened, and Dr. Coggin exited. Coggin spotted Adler, nodded, and approached. Adler extended a hand to him. The man’s smooth, boyish face belied world-weary eyes.

“Thanks for meeting me, Doc,” Adler said.

Dr. Coggin had been on staff the day Adler and Logan had been brought into the emergency room. The doctor had saved his partner’s life.

“How’s Detective Logan?” Dr. Coggin asked.

“He’s making good progress,” Adler said.

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. What can I do for you?” Dr. Coggin asked.

“I’m investigating the stabbing of Kaitlin Roe,” Adler said.

“Right. A nasty stab wound. She was lucky.”

“How is she doing?” Fear had dogged Adler when he hurried to Kaitlin’s bedside after he’d been notified about her stabbing.

“She’s strong and will recover.” The doctor’s gaze grew quizzical, as if he were trying to figure out where this was going. “What can I do to help you?”

Adler would have to tread carefully. “Hypothetically speaking, could you determine if a wound were self-inflicted or not?”

“Theoretically?” The doctor folded his arms and leaned toward Adler a fraction. “Sometimes.”

“Would the angle of the cut be important?” he pressed. Adler didn’t like the line of questioning, but knew it had to be done.

“It’s difficult to stab yourself with the proper force. The natural tendency is to flinch. It’s also difficult to get the range of motion and momentum to drive the blade into flesh while trying not to make it a mortal wound.”

“But a motivated person could stab themselves and make it appear as if they’d been attacked?” Adler said.

“Yes, it’s possible,” Dr. Coggin said. “But no, I don’t think Ms. Roe stabbed herself. I spoke to the paramedic who treated her on scene. She was barely conscious when they arrived, but when the medic tried to cut her shirt off to evaluate her injuries, Ms. Roe started to fight as if she were still under attack. She had to be restrained so they could get an IV started.”

The image of Kaitlin fighting and screaming would be hard to shake. “When do you plan to release Kaitlin?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

“Could you find a reason to keep her until Thursday? If she’s here, she’s safe.”

“I might be able to come up with a reason or two,” Dr. Coggin said. “I’ll keep the extra security on her floor until she leaves.”

“Thank you.” Kaitlin was safe for now, and he had one less thing to worry about.

The drive to the retirement home took Adler to the Ginter Park area in Northside. It was a neighborhood with an array of architectural styles ranging from Tudor Revival to Spanish Colonial. The retirement home where North was living had once been an orphanage, later a school, before most recently being converted to a senior living facility.

Adler showed his badge at the front desk and was directed to the old man’s room. He found the retired detective dressed in pressed pants and a crisp white shirt playing solitaire at a table.

Adler knocked. “Detective North?”

North’s tired shoulders straightened at the sound of his former title. He kept his gaze on his card game. “So what can I do for you, Detective Adler?”

Adler sat in a chair across from the old man. “I have questions about Gina Mason.”

The old detective looked up. “A popular case these days. About time someone started paying attention again.”

The old man flipped several cards over. The game now seemed to bore him, and he set the cards down. His demeanor shifted from tired to engaged.

“That woman send you here?”

“Kaitlin Roe? No.”

North grunted. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“How did you hear about her?” Adler asked, slightly impressed.

“We do have phones here, and believe it or not, sonny, we graduated from dial-up access to the Internet.” He shrugged. “After Kaitl

in’s visit, I called a few buddies on the force and asked around about her. One updated me on her and Jennifer Ralston.”

“Kaitlin will recover.”

“Good. She might not believe it, but I like her. Takes grit to face your past. Where was she when it happened?”

“The home of Erika Travis, now Crowley. She’d received a text allegedly from Erika, who’s now missing.”

“Was Kaitlin set up?” North asked.

“That’s what I think.”

“So how can I help?”

“I’d like to pick your brain about the Gina Mason case. There’s no substitute for talking to the original investigator.”

“Sure.”

“What was Kaitlin like?”

“She had a juvenile record in Texas. Trespassing, drugs, shoplifting. When the case landed on my desk, I figured she was culpable. I leaned on her hard, and when that didn’t work, I leaked her name to the press. By the time she left Richmond, she hated all cops, but especially me. I’d do it again.” His jaw pulsed, and his chin raised a fraction.


Tags: Mary Burton Mystery