Which might confirm my idea that Redman was the Society. But knowing Williams’ sorority sister donated makes me wonder if she was, too, and with Williams the common denominator, was she the one who got them involved? Maybe that’s why she called me into the alleyway. She was helping the killer and didn’t expect to die. Ghost had a different plan. I can’t prove any of this, but that’s where Tic Tac comes into play.
“What about those connections to Pocher I asked about?”
“Chief Houston and Roger were at the same fundraiser for your father you were at, as were hundreds in law enforcement. I’m still working.”
“Look at Redman’s caseload. Look for someone with ties to the Society who he might have represented.” I’m about to be at the tunnel. “I’m going on the subway. I’ll be back online in a few minutes.” I hang up, and that’s when I feel someone at my back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I walk another foot, weave into the crowd and then step into an alleyway. Someone follows, and I easily grab that someone. The woman yelps and I shove her against the wall. “Agent Love,” she rushes to say. “Agent Love, it’s me. Sally.”
I blink her into view and scowl. “What the hell, Sally? Why are you following me?”
“I wasn’t. Or, I was, but not like following you. Just trying to catch up. I was going to Starbucks and I saw you.”
And yet, when I weaved into the crowd, she managed to keep up. That doesn’t read like an average person “catching up,” but then I’m a paranoid bitch right now. “Why didn’t you just shout my name or call my phone?”
“I called out. I did, but there were sirens.”
“I didn’t hear a siren or you calling me. Why are you here with me right now, Sally?”
“I needed to tell you something I didn’t feel comfortable saying at work. I was going to call but not while I was at work.”
She’s stating facts. She’s not emotional, thank fuck. I release her and fold my arms in front of me. “Talk.”
“Thomas was really obsessed with that soap opera star. He found out that Detective Williams knew her, and he was all but stalking Williams to get her to introduce him.”
It’s a red flag I should have seen and probably would have if I could ever get to Purgatory. “How do you know this?” I ask.
“Aside from witnessing it, Detective Williams complained about him. I know there were more murders that don’t connect to Detective Williams, but maybe they connect to him. I’ve tried to investigate, but my resources aren’t broad enough. And I’m not a nervous person, at all, but he creeps me out.”
My hands go to my hips. “How close were you to Williams?” I ask, and yes, I know I asked this earlier. People change their answers like a woman changes her hair: every time they suddenly want to show the world a new side of themselves, and often, it seems, just fucking because.
“I told you,” she says. “We had a professional relationship. No outside work contact.”
“Do you have a relationship with Sergeant Morris?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. I met him once. That’s all.”
“Did Detective Williams talk about him?”
“Yes. She really liked him.”
“I thought you didn’t know her beyond work?” I challenge.
“We’ve worked, or worked,” she amends with a swallow, “we worked together for years. I could read her, and when she talked about him, she softened.”
“And Redman? Was she into Redman?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But she didn’t talk about him. She still talked about Sergeant Morris.”
She still talked about Morris, I think.
He’s the one who could influence her. He’s admitted a need to be obsessively clean, which fits our killer except that feels more staged to me than anything. And the killer doesn’t suck his thumb every time something goes wrong. Morris does, and unless he’s a damn good actor, he’s not him. And the idea that he is that good of an actor, well, that’s a tough sell. Me being a bitch to hide my lack of emotions is a far cry from him acting like the little bitch I called him to cover up being a psychopath.
But it’s not impossible.
“Agent Love?”
I snap Sally back into view. “Go back to work or to Starbucks or wherever the hell you were going.” I leave her there, round the corner and start walking, thinking about Thomas. He’s in forensics. He’s creepy. He openly admitted to having a crush on one of the victims, but Morris just keeps grabbing my attention. Thomas feels too obvious. Maybe Morris really is a perfect faker. I dial Tic Tac again.
“That was a fast ride.”
“There’s a Sergeant Morris who I need you to look into.”
“Yes, he’s on the list of law enforcement on the scene last night,” he says.
“Does he have access to the toxin I have you researching?”
“Are you fucking serious, Lilah? I’ve had about five minutes to work on this.”
“Language, Tic Tac. Language.”
“Sorry. Sorry, you just—you—has anyone ever told you you’re overwhelming.”
“No, but you’re a wuss. Does he have access to the drug, Tic Tac?”
“The division of labs out of Jamaica, New York, has it and two hundred and twenty-five plus scientists and support staff with access to that toxin. The status of the police lab for the crime scene unit is uncertain, but any one of those two hundred and twenty-five mentioned could hand it off.”
And Thomas, I think, which is a reason for me to visit his office and lab later tonight when he’s gone. “I can try to narrow the list to those who have direct usage and access to the toxin,” Tic Tac adds.
“In other words, everyone and their fucking uncle can get that toxin. Narrow it down. Find common denominators.” I disconnect and head into the subway tunnel, on my way to the medical examiner’s office, where I’m going to look at the medical examiner a little differently than in the past. That office might not have the chemical needed, but she has easy access to the main forensics operation that would. And Melanie is, after all, the woman who took over this case for Beth. And I now believe, who was part of a bigger picture. And not only does she have access to this investigation, she has Roger blabbing in her ear.
***
I exit the tunnel and dial Beth. She answers with a groan. “Lilah?”
“You were sleeping? Isn’t it like eight pm there? Are you becoming your mother already?”
“Don’t say crap like that to me, all right? I mean, damn it, Lilah. I’m having time change issues. What’s happening?”
“Did you tell Melanie about the poison?”
“I tried. She hasn’t returned my call. I called the reception area, and they said she isn’t in the office.”
“Don’t tell her,” I reply. “Not yet. Don’t ask details. Go to bed or whatever.”
“I left a detailed message for her, Lilah. Sorry.”
“Of course, you did. You’re a blurt it from the rooftops to save the world kind of person.”
“Was that an insult?”
“You ask this because you think it’s hard to tell when I’m trying to insult you?”
“I actually think you walk around insulting everyone, so yes. You were insulting me. Don’t do that. I’m in another country, trying to help while fearing for my life.”
“You have Kane’s man and an ocean between you and this problem.”
“Yes, well, Kane’s man is wonderful, like really, really wonderful, Lilah. Like he’s and we—”
“If you’re about to tell me you’re fucking him, right now, considering all I have going on, stop yourself.”
“Oh. Right. Not a good time.”
“Okay so now that we’re passed that,” I say. “Call me if Melanie calls you but don’t talk to her.” I hang up and turn the corner, bringing the medical examiner’s building into view. Not that I’ll be talking to Melanie. She’s not in the office.
I’m not sure what to think about her being gone