CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cami was awoken by a loud, persistent knocking on her hotel room door. She was so deeply asleep that for a while, her dream shifted to driving on an old country road, with a rattling truck storming past.
Then the phone on the bedside table began ringing and that noise ripped her straight out of her slumber. She grabbed up the phone.
“Hello?” she said blearily. She was not a morning person and—if morning at all—it was still dark.
Connor replied, sounding brisk, energetic, and wide awake. Also, highly stressed.
“Cami, we need to get going. Get dressed immediately. Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.” He paused, and then delivered the bombshell. “There’s been another murder.”
“What? Another murder?” Groping for the bedside light, Cami knocked over the coffee mug on the table, luckily empty. It toppled on its side with a clatter. “I’ll be there now. I mean as soon as I can.”
Connor disconnected, leaving Cami to scramble.
She finally found the light switch. Checked the time. It wasn’t that early—six a.m.—but it was a grim, gray, and rainy morning.
She climbed out of bed, pulled on the spare shirt she’d bought from the kiosk last night and grabbed her underwear from where it had been drying in the bathroom. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled on her baseball cap which she had to admit, was a handy fix in this rushed situation.
Another murder? What had happened? When had this person died? Was it exactly the same type of kill? Questions surged in her mind. She knew Connor would be able to provide answers. Some of them, at least.
Barging out of the hotel room with her purse under her arm and her FBI jacket in her hand, Cami sprinted for the elevator and rode down to the lobby. There, Connor was waiting, none too patiently. He was pacing from wall to wall.
“Let’s head out,” he said.
Still partially awake and totally thrown by the twist that things had taken, Cami rushed after him, down to the basement, where the rainy chill was more intense. She quickly pulled on her jacket as they headed for the car.
“Where are we going?”
“To the murder scene,” he said shortly. “The victim is a woman called Kate Warner.”
That silenced Cami. To the murder scene? She had feared it, in the back of her mind. This was going to be another experience that shocked her right out of her comfort zone.
Normal life seemed so far away as they sped through the rainy morning. It was still early enough that rush hour hadn’t gotten going. The headlights of the light traffic flared in the damp, chilly air.
Thinking of normal life, Cami remembered something with a jolt.
“I’m supposed to have a class at nine today,” she told him as they drove out. “A few classes, at MIT. I’ll need to call them. What should I tell them?”
For a moment, she imagined waking up in the tiny bedroom in the university’s residence hall that until yesterday she’d considered her home. How it would feel to look at her gaming and screen setup on the shelf as she sat up in bed, watching the light filter in through the window. It would feel normal and reassuring. She’d lost that normality without even realizing how comforting it had been.
“You don’t need to tell them anything,” Connor said. “We spoke to them yesterday.”
“You did?” Cami asked, feeling startled. They’d contacted the university already? Something about the speed and high-level efficiency with which that had been done was…well, scary.
“It’s all organized. They are aware of the circumstances.”
Was Connor deliberately not telling her what, exactly, the FBI had shared with MIT? Did the university know she was a potential criminal? Would it affect her scholarship?
Connor wasn’t saying more. Not about that, anyway.
“We have a lot to do right now,” he told her. “We’re going to the murder scene to see what evidence we can find.This victim was also found in the same set of circumstances. She had a gaming setup; she was found with a VR headset near her body. This is where I’m hoping you’ll be able to provide insight that can give us a lead on the killer.”
Cami sat straighter. This sounded, at least, as if she’d be able to focus on the IT aspect. If there was anything to find, what would it be? What would she need to look out for?
Suddenly, she realized she was feeling less dread at the thought of arriving at the scene. Instead, there was more of a determination to get some clues that might lead them to this nameless and faceless murderer.
Even so, she couldn’t help staring as they drove up to the home. Already, from far down the road in this cozy residential suburb, she could see the flash of red and blue lights through the rain. The police had cordoned off the narrow road, and Connor showed his FBI badge before being waved through. She felt her stomach tighten as they drove up to the house where the murder had occurred.