It seemed to take a few seconds, but Ayer seemed to finally understand what they were implying. “You mean…is someone hunting down Life Fulfilled clients?”
“It appears that way,” Rachel said. “People on the waiting list.”
“And here’s the hard part,” Jack said. “If someone is actively seeking out people on the Life Fulfilled waiting list, it means that the killer has the list. And we’re assuming it’s not the sort of thing Mr. Dalton or anyone else with the foundation would just willingly give to people. So we can’t help but wonder if the killer is someone on the inside. And seeing as how you spoke to two of the three victims, you have to be considered.”
This time, it looked like he’d been slapped hard across the face. “Me? Are you insane?”
As they let him continue to accept what was being presented to him, Rachel watched the Lab prance by the entrance to the room. He looked inside, checked out his guests, and then walked elsewhere, just out of sight. She could hear him sniffing at something, his nails still clicking against the floors.
“You have to understand where we’re coming from,” Jack went on. “If the killer is using the list, that at least means we have a group of people we know need to be watched after and protected. But on the flip side of that, we also have to assume the killer would have easy access to the list. Now, you’re not the first person we’ve questioned about it, Dr. Ayer. And if you can provide alibis for where you have been over the past several days, we can eliminate you from the equation.”
“This is…this is just…”
Ayer couldn’t find the words to express himself, and the hell of it was that Rachel didn’t think he even appeared all that angry. If anything, he seemed wrecked that two people he’d recently met with had been murdered.
“I know it’s a lot,” Rachel said. “So, just think it over. Calm down and just replay your last few days.”
It wasn’t until she said this that she realized she was convinced he wasn’t the killer. It all came down to the way he’d reacted upon hearing the news. He continued to look back and forth between them, almost as if he was expecting them to reveal that this was all some sort of sick joke.
“Well, let’s see…this week,” he said. “Monday, I was at the office from eight in the morning until four in the afternoon. After that, I came home and…”
He was shaking a bit and still finding it hard to express himself. He got up from the couch and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just need to think…to let this sink in. I think I need a drink. Can I offer you anything?”
“No, thank you,” Jack said.
Rachel nearly said the same, but remembered the nurse and the doctor back at the hospital, telling her how part of the cause of her blackout was dehydration. “You know, if it’s not too much trouble, I think I’ll have a glass of water.”
“Of course,” Ayer said. He walked back out into the hallway and toward a large kitchen that sat slightly off-center of the hallway’s end. Though he did not invite them to join him, Jack and Rachel followed along. As they made their way, she saw the Lab again, standing by a closed door along the hallway. He grinned up at them, tail wagging again. Rachel leaned down and stroked him between the ears. The dog’s tail wagged harder, but Rachel only gave him a few seconds of her attention, forging on into the kitchen.
When Ayer had said he needed a drink, he’d been talking about liquor. He was reaching up into a cabinet by a stainless-steel fridge and taking down a bottle of scotch. When he then took a tumbler out of a nearby cabinet he also took out a glass. He handed it to Rachel and said, “Help yourself,” while nodding to the water dispenser built into the door of the refrigerator.
He poured himself a nice amount of scotch and took a long gulp. For a moment, Rachel though he was going to knock it all back at once but he restrained himself. He took a very deep breath and then tried to start talking again. Rachel sipped on her water as patiently as she could.
“Okay…my schedule for the last week. I was at work, with the practice I work for, on Monday from eight to four. I left there and came home. I was…no, wait, I went to the grocery store first. Got home maybe a little after five. Tuesday, I worked half a day and spoke with Troy Hetfield at the Life Fulfilled offices. The rest of the week, I was at my own office, working. I’ve got schedules and case notes you can see to back it all up.”
“That should be enough,” Rachel said. “The only missing piece would be the fact that Troy Hetfield was killed at night, in a parking lot after a concert, just last night. Where were you last night?”
“Here. From about six o’clock on. I sat here with Rascal—my dog—and watched TV. Messed around with my guitar for a little while,” he said quickly as if ashamed.
“Any online activity we can look into to back that up?” Jack asked.
The tight look on Ayer’s face was clear sign that he was very frustrated that they would even think he’d be capable of murder. But he was also trying to be as calm and as polite as possible. It was yet another thing that made Rachel quite certain that he was not their killer.
“I checked my work emails around eight or so,” he said. “I looked up some guitar tabs at some point. Maybe around nine thirty? Not sure…and that was on my phone, so…”
“Do you live alone, Dr. Ayer?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. I have a girlfriend that stays over sometimes, but she’s been overseas for the past two weeks. Oh! Yes! I also spoke to her on my phone last night. Just before bed…right around eleven.”
“That could help,” Jack said. “If it comes down to it, you’d be willing to let us look at your phone records?”
“Absolutely!”
“That’s good, Dr. Ayer. I think for now, we’ll leave you alone but just know that until your alibis have all checked out or we can prove your innocence otherwise, we may have police cars passing by your home here and there. And we may also contact you with more questions.”
“Yes, of course. Anything I can do to help.”
Rachel and Jack shared a look of agreement, a non-verbal exchange solidifying that their conversation with Stephen Ayer was over—and that he was almost certainly not their killer.