Chapter 19
She felt sorry for London. She’d had time to get used to the strangeness of her reality. But, for him, it was almost impossible to make the leap in understanding. This wasn’t logical. This wasn’t factual. This wasn’t scientific. This was so far to the left it didn’t make any sense. By the time she’d come to accept that, she realized there had to be some answer somehow.
But right now, her suspicion was running hot. Was someone using her as a lab rat, as London had so blatantly put it, slowly testing to see what would eventually kill her? She figured they would rather not have her dead but confined to a space where they could do what they wanted for a much longer time. She understood that mentality. After all she had grown up under it. As far as she knew, her parents never said anything to anyone. But how did she know? She’d been a child then. Sworn to silence, punished for any infraction.
Lost in her memories, she stared in surprise as London turned and walked downstairs. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears behind them. She didn’t want to lose him. The loss of her parents had been devastating in so many ways. But to lose London …
That would cripple her. She bolted to her feet and raced behind him. She didn’t say a word. She stared at her hands, happy to see the veins on the backs. Was he hungry? Pizza was a distant memory, but she didn’t know how long ago that had been. She walked into the kitchen, not sure if he would stay or if he planned to leave. Such an odd air ran around him that she realized he needed his own space.
Only she couldn’t give him much.
She opened the fridge and pulled out the fixings for sandwiches while he sat at the kitchen table, silent, withdrawn, clicking away furiously on his laptop. She made two sandwiches. She carried them to the table and, for some reason, poured a glass of milk for each of them. The childish touch made her smile. That made it worthwhile.
She sat and said, “Eat.”
He raised his gaze over the laptop, saw the sandwich with surprise.
“You need to keep your strength up,” she added.
“And your strength?”
“I’m working on it,” she admitted. She nodded toward the laptop. “What are you researching?”
“Stefan’s psychic abilities and astral body projection.” He shook his head. “There is so much more to learn …”
“It’ll take a lot of time. The Internet is stuffed full of lots of information and misinformation.”
That blue gaze of his pinned her in place. “You’ve done the research?”
“Ever since I was old enough to ask questions, I’ve been looking for answers. Once I met Stefan, I had a whole lot more questions. After meeting Dr. Maddy, I had that many more.” She gave London a small smile. “Once you travel down that path, it’s like this great big black hole sucking you in.”
He nodded. “You want to tell me more about what happened to your parents?” London closed the laptop, setting it off to one side and pulling the sandwich closer. “You said you thought they were murdered. But you never said by whom or why.”
“I believe it was the pharmaceutical company they worked for.”
He froze, his sandwich midair, and stared at her. “What pharmaceutical company?”
“AMAX.” She lifted her sandwich and took a big bite.
In contrast, he slowly lowered his to his plate. Sartain.
She studied him, glanced at the sandwich, then at him. “Is there something wrong with yours?”
He shook his head. “Why do you think AMAX?”
“My parents were doing research for them. They never really told me too much about it. I remember they signed paperwork here. After they were gone, phone calls came, and the odd person passed by, a lab tech came looking for their research of something in progress but it was presumed burned in the fire. I don’t remember who else.” She continued to chew. “At one point, he seemed to be very interested in me. I was afraid my parents were doing the research on me for him.”
“What do you think now?”
“Pretty damn sure that’s exactly what they were doing. After their deaths, several attempts were made to take over my guardianship.”
“And what happened?”
“My uncle Jamie knew signing my custody agreement was on the shady side of legal, so it was in his best interests to keep our agreement private. In fact, my attorney kept Jamie’s name out of everything and received all correspondence as my agent of record. On the surface, everything had to look normal—I was nobody’s fool. I knew somebody was trying to get hold of me. When I turned eighteen, all the documents changed. My lawyer set up my estate to protect me before and after that turning point.” She felt London’s surprise. “I had time to think about this. A lot of time to think about it.”
“Not many kids grow up thinking about how to regain control of their life and keep it their own.”
“No? My father talked about it occasionally, saying, if anything happened to them, I would have to be smart and might need a lawyer. I’d already done a lot of research on the law, given my situation. It wasn’t something I ever mentioned to him though.”
“You have any idea how long before he died when he said this to you?”
“Less than six months.”
“Do you think they knew they would die?”
She put down her sandwich, wiped her hands on the paper towel and leaned back. “I think they suspected something was wrong. They changed. They were more nervous, like forever looking over their shoulders. My father went through the house every night to check the bolts on the doors. I don’t know if they’d received any threats or just had that intuitive feeling, but they seemed to be much more cautious.”
“And yet they didn’t do anything to protect you?” He shook his head. “Who was this uncle who you paid?”
She snorted. “Uncle Jamie, my mother’s brother. Never met him in person. My lawyer drew up the paperwork.”
“Was that ethical on the lawyer’s part?
“It wasn’t illegal. We needed a contract with Jamie. If he was prepared to be a guardian in name only, nothing else was required. When I turned eighteen, he got an extra bonus to sign off.”
London shook his head. “Jesus.” But he bit into the sandwich and chewed with obvious enthusiasm.
She watched him for a few moments, slowly picked up her sandwich and continued to eat. She thought about it and knew it probably sounded like something out of a horror flick. A cold, calculating serial killer setting about her goals. “I never touched my parents.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”
“I loved them. Yet hated them. They were all I knew. I was absolutely lost afterward. Angry, confused, defiant, and yet so very lost without the structure my life had been built around before.”
“I can imagine. You must have had a hard time making friends.”
“I don’t think I did. I wasn’t a prisoner anymore. I acted like I just moved into town. I changed schools, from online to a physical one, so it would look like I was a new arrival. I’d already researched how I would enter society. It was awkward, confusing and hard. It took a while to adapt, to fit in.”
“Why would AMAX have killed them?”
“I think my parents realized they had put me through enough, and, as an up-and-coming adult, how would they keep me locked up forever?”
“You think AMAX wanted them to continue? And, if so, why didn’t AMAX kidnap you after your parents were killed?”
“I don’t have an answer for that. I wondered about it. But nobody made any attempt that I’m aware of, so I’m not sure.” Silence fell on the room. She finished her sandwich while she thought, then said, “I could eat a second one.”
“I’m sure you burned a lot of energy doing whatever it was you were doing,” he commented. “Go ahead and make a second one.”
She smiled, settling back to watch him. “Maybe later. Can you check out my parents’ file? See if there’s anything of interest there?”
He gave her a slow, thoughtful look. “I already have. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary in it. AMAX’s name didn’t come up in it.”
“No reason it would,” she said calmly. “It wasn’t advertised. You’d have to contact the lab where they rented space. Maybe you’d find something there.”
“They rented lab space?”
She laughed. “Yes. For their private research they couldn’t do elsewhere. And for the longest time I used the same lab but a different room.”
“For your research?”
She nodded. “Until I was charged with murder. Then I wasn’t deemed the type of customer they wanted creating poisons onsite.”
“What type of work did you do?”
“I was looking for plants that were poisonous but, in different formulations, also healed.”
“Did you get far?”
“I did for the longest time, but the research still isn’t complete.”
“Can you start it again? Pick up where you left off?”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. When I was arrested, the media found out about the connection. Protesters were outside the lab space I rented, talking about AMAX helping killers create terrorist weapons.” She snorted. “The lab got rid of me very quickly.”
She stood up and collected their empty plates. “I don’t want to sit here and wait for another attack. Surely we can do something to track down whoever is doing this.”
“Let me call Steve, see if he’s found anything.” He got up, kissed her forehead. “Shouldn’t you get some sleep? You’ve been up all night.”
“So have you,” she said.
He nodded. “I’ve caught my second wind. Why don’t you try to lay down again while I head back to the office?” He waited for her answer.
She gave him a slight smile and a quick nod.
Then he walked out the door to the back of the deck, his phone in his hand. She washed the few dishes, hating the feeling that she was once again at the whim of other people’s actions. She was under attack again—and no one seemed to know by whom or how. And that was unacceptable.
There had to be a way to stop this asshole. And, if the normal cops couldn’t help, maybe the other cops could—if there were any psychic cops. Not that Stefan would like that “other” label.
*
Later that day, London walked around the conference room table. The team had gone through the letters, further separating them into piles. They were already doing follow-up phone calls to people who had left names, addresses and contact information. As for the other letters, they could only guess who they were from.
They had separated some letters as per style and type. The ones they took seriously were placed on the side. Unfortunately he saw many more still to go through.
He walked to the end of the table and looked at the pile of his brother’s letters. Another stack was off to the far end. He stopped and studied the top one, then picked up the stack and slowly read through them. They were more of the same nasty viciousness, words he’d read earlier. He hadn’t seen these, as Steve had looked at some of them himself. But enough were here to make his skin crawl. How she must’ve felt reading these, realizing how much hatred was directed at her, and for what? Particularly as she was innocent. How fair was that?
“There you are.”
He lifted his gaze from the letters to find Steve walking into the room. “Yeah. Sorry. Seems like I’ve been everywhere but here these past few days.”
Steve shrugged. “Can’t say it’s much of a problem. We’re hurrying up and getting nowhere fast. So far the people we contacted about their letters have admitted they sent them and now feel a little on the stupid side. A couple were belligerent, but nothing there to raise a red flag. Nobody had any cause to go any further than writing.”
“And this stack?” London asked, shaking the pile in his hands.
“It’s the worst of the lot. Those people we are more concerned about. Just too obvious. Chances are something horrific was going on. Whether they went past the letter-writing stage, it’s too early to tell. The handwriting expert, Alice, has been all over them.”
“Right. But, unless we have something to compare it to, it doesn’t make one bit of a difference.”
“Yet it could lead us to the killer.”
Steve’s voice was so cheerful and positive, London was hard-pressed to rain on his parade. Plus, from Steve’s tone, he was obviously looking at people, not just at Fern. “I’m glad they are searching for other options. Fern isn’t involved.”
“She’s in the clear,” Steve agreed. “She wasn’t there when the security guard was killed. She wasn’t in town when Reggie was first noted as missing.”
Relief washed through London. “Now that is good to know.”
“It is. Still a lot of people will find it hard to let go of Fern as their favorite suspect. This softening is not to say she’s innocent, only an acknowledgment we could have a second killer.”
“I never thought she had anything to do with it,” London said.
“Why is that?” Grant Sutherland walked in and stared at him.
Steve raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet.
London didn’t know what Grant’s connection was to Fern, but London knew he’d better watch what he said because it would make its way back to her. “I never really believed in the circumstantial evidence or my brother’s statement. My brother lied on many issues. So I question whether he said anything truthful on the stand.”
Grant froze. “Are you sure he lied?”
London held up his phone. “I need to confirm it. I’ve been trying to contact him. But he’s gone, missing or on the run. Or”—he took a deep breath—“he’s dead. I’m afraid he’s become another victim.”
Grant walked to the far end of the conference room table, picking up the letters London’s brother wrote. “What about these? Steve suggested they were your brother’s.”
London wanted to shoot Steve a questioning glance but barely restrained himself. “That’s part of what I want to talk to Derek about. But, after speaking with Fern today, she disputed pretty much every bit of my brother’s statement, from the reason they broke up to his statement to the cops.”
Grant studied him with a hard tone. “You know it won’t be easy on you if your brother is involved?”
London nodded. “Nothing I can do about his mistakes. He’s been making them for a long time.”
“Good that you understand that. We need to find him. If he perjured himself, we have to start at the beginning.” Grant raised his hand. “Where could he be?”
London shrugged. “He used to have friends, but these last couple months he’s been mostly a hermit. His physical health has so greatly declined he’s been staying at home most of the time, but he’s not there now, and he doesn’t own another property, so I have no idea where he has gone. Of course he has some money from our inheritance so could be anywhere.” He winced, then decided to share another truth. There’d been enough lies. “According to Fern, my brother tried to poison her.”
“Explain,” Grant snapped. He pulled out a chair, motioning at the one beside it for London to sit. “When did you hear this, and exactly what did she say?”
London sat, took a moment to collect his thoughts and then tried to encapsulate everything he’d learned so far.
“And the cup that the lawyer gave her? You have it?”
He shook his head. “I saw it. It’s at her house in a box. But it’s a little hard to prove where that cup came from.”
“Unless it still has the lawyer’s prints on it.” Grant nodded. “That’s something we can take care of. At least it would allow us to confirm something she said as being truthful.”
London winced. “I think everything she said is truthful. We’ve done her a huge disservice. I’m really afraid of what my brother might’ve done,” he added in low tones.
“He’s not been himself lately,” Steve added quietly.
Grant got to his feet and strode toward the door. “Go find your brother, London. I’ll talk to Fern and collect that cup and get a copy of that video. Plus I want you to write down everything you just said, so we have something to refer back to.” Grant walked from the room.
London groaned. “Why the hell didn’t I tape it when she was telling me?”
“No idea. It would’ve been good to have. We need a copy of that video she has too.” Steve stood. “I’ll get you a notepad. Stay put.”
London pulled out his phone and sent his brother yet another message.
Where the hell are you?
As usual there was nothing but silence.
*
He hadn’t expected to enjoy watching London agonize over his asshole of a brother. It did give him a spot of pleasure in this dark mission. London was also agonizing over Fern.
London was a fool. And getting to be a bigger one every day. Double the fun.
Still Derek was a loose connection that had to be snipped. No ends left to catch him up.
Still this Derek crap was pissing him off. Even though he’d found him he was being very uncooperative. Yet asked him for a safe place to stay until this blew over. He glanced at his phone, wondering at the sense of meeting with Derek again. He was damn sure he’d get the same answer as before. Fuck off.
Talk about unappreciative. Still Derek was just an asshole. And soon he’d be a dead asshole.