Chapter 26
Deciding she needed food first, she grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder and walked away. She heard voices behind her but didn’t slow her steps. No way would she ask anybody to come with her. To hell with that. She’d seen how law enforcement took care of her in the past.
She continued to walk, but two policemen came up on either side of her. They never said a word. Her shoulders sagged. They shouldn’t have done that. Now she’d have to be nice to them. In a low voice she muttered, “Thanks.”
The man on the left didn’t say a word, but the man on the right said, “We’re happy to help. We’re sorry for what you went through before.”
She shot him a look of incredulity. “Really? I know you all think I got away with murder, but you’re wrong. And while you were focused on me, somebody continued to kill people.”
He nodded, shoved his hands in his pants pockets and said, “Which is why we are renewing our efforts and considering the cases again. Somebody out there is still trying to set you up.”
“Do you think Zanders was working for someone?” asked the man on her left. “Could there be more killers involved?”
“Or he’s being blackmailed, like my parents were years ago.”
“Blackmailed? Your parents? What’s that got to do with any of this?” Lefty asked.
She tried to explain, keeping it superficial, saying she’d handed over the information to London with her mother’s notes about being blackmailed by AMAX.
Lefty whistled. “If you want to take on an enemy, it’s a big enemy to take on.”
She nodded. “Within a few months my parents were both dead. And everything laid low for a long time. Until I grew up. I never had anything to do with AMAX. They just owned the lab I was renting space in.”
“Isn’t that rather unusual?”
She explained about AMAX. “Maybe I chose that space because it had something to do with my parents,” she confessed. Inside she hated even hearing the words come out of her mouth. Was that the reason she’d gone to the same lab? “It’s also difficult to get independent space like that.”
“You think Zanders took on your mother’s research?”
“From what I understand, he carried on my mother’s work. Both took a dark path, crossing some ethical lines by getting involved in something they shouldn’t have. I don’t know all the details. I never worked with Zanders, and I don’t remember ever seeing him at my house. But, if he did come to my house, it would have been a long time ago. My parents died when I was sixteen. And I wasn’t privy to any of their research at the time.”
She didn’t know what else she could say without getting into her entire history. And that was the last thing she wanted to do.
The sandwich shop was up ahead. She said, “I’m heading in there. Do you guys want anything?”
“I’ll stay outside, stand watch,” the man on her right said.
“I’ll come inside and get something. I missed breakfast,” Lefty said.
Inside the business, she ordered a large chicken breast sandwich with everything. As she paid for the sandwich, the cop placed a similar order. Outside, they met up with Righty and headed to the storage unit.
“I hope you guys get the right person this time,” she said, trying to ease the bitterness in her tone.
“We intend to.”
She shrugged. “A lot of people right now are either missing or dead.”
“Who’s missing?”
“Reggie, who you know about, and Derek, the guy who had all that lovely proof that I killed those people.”
“The FBI agent’s brother?” Lefty asked. “What do you mean, he’s missing?”
“Nobody can find him. He’s not answering his phone, and he is not at his house. No way to know where he’s gone.”
“Any idea why he’d run off?”
“Maybe because I’m back, and his whole life has unraveled. He perjured himself on the stand, and, as much as I’d like to see justice for what I went through because of his words, I doubt there will be any.”
She considered what Stefan had said about Derek dying. She wondered if anyone would find him before he ended up dead.
“Derek?” Lefty said. “I might have seen something in the files with that name.”
She turned to look at him. “What files? Where?”
“In the storage locker.”
She frowned, remembering what London had said about his brother’s condition. “His health is poor. He might have a major illness that maybe Zanders was helping him with.” She shook her head. “But none of this research is deemed safe enough to experiment with poisons on humans at this stage.”
“Lots of people try a lot of different things, particularly with herbs,” Lefty said. “The industry is largely unregulated.”
She nodded. They weren’t saying anything she didn’t already know. “When we get back to the locker, I want to see where his name is mentioned.”
“Those files have gone to the station.” The cop pulled out his phone. “I’ll call and see if we can do a search.”
By the time they made it to the storage locker, the order had been passed along, but so far nobody had called about finding anything. She pulled out her phone and called London. She didn’t mean to bother him, but, if Zanders had a home office, maybe something could be found there that would pinpoint to Derek’s location.
“London here,” he said in a brisk tone.
“Derek may have had something to do with Zanders. It could explain why Derek’s condition is fading quickly.”
“You think Zanders poisoned him?” London asked in alarm.
“No,” she rushed to reassure him. “It’s possible Zanders was trying to help him. Unless we find a Zanders’s file on Derek, we can’t be sure. The detectives think that file went to the police station.”
There was a hard silence on the other end of the phone. “We just found Zanders’s home address. Or at least we’re told it was his home. I’m heading over there in ten.” And he hung up.
She told the detective what London and his partner had found. “Let’s hope they find a whole lot more to get to the bottom of this.”
“We will. The case is breaking open. We should have answers by the end of the day.”
She brightened. “That would be nice.”
Inside the storage locker, she sat on the chair and polished off her sandwich. Then she headed back to her parents’ filing cabinet. She waded systematically through the files, recognizing the protocols her parents had been following but with other subjects. And Zanders was one of them. No wonder he wanted to keep his research here with her parents’. The files with his name on them gave all his history as well. Several other people were mentioned but only their first names, never last names. She could only hope that, if they cross-referenced these files to Zanders’s files, they could find more information between the two filing systems and thereafter from the patients themselves. Although Zanders might have killed them too. And what about Derek?
She couldn’t get rid of the feeling something was horribly wrong. And this wasn’t about Derek. She paced the storage locker, wondering who was in trouble now. Finally she pulled out her phone and texted London.
Are you okay?
When she got no response, she fretted again. Finally, after another ten minutes, she sent the same message. Again no response. If he was busy at Zanders’s home, all kinds of things could be happening.
When she couldn’t stand the silence any longer, she called London, and it went to voice mail. She walked over to Lefty. “Any idea how to contact the men who went to Zanders’s apartment? I’m trying to contact London, the FBI agent, but so far he’s not answering his phone or text messages,” she confessed. “I’m getting worried.”
The man gave her a sharp look, pulled out his phone and called the station. She only half listened as he asked for assistance getting hold of whoever was at the apartment.
“Four men went,” he told her. “London was one of them. They are contacting them now. I should hear back in a few minutes.”
She nodded and gave him a smile. “Thank you.”
But inside her stomach knotted; her gut churned. Her throat was so damn dry she knew something was definitely wrong now. “Do you have that address?” She tried to keep her voice calm, controlled.
His phone rang. “Right. Okay. I’ll tell her.” He turned back to Fern. “London and his partner are searching the rest of the building.”
She nodded. “Any idea where it is?”
He shrugged. “Willow Crescent. Only a few blocks from here.”
She tried to remember where that was and realized it was one of the streets across from the sandwich shop. “So just around the corner.” She turned as if she saw the property in the right direction. But, of course, trees and fences were in the way. “I’ll walk down and take a look.”
“Are you really that worried?”
She gave him a hard stare. “Yes.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
With him following behind, she picked up the pace and raced toward the location.
*
London walked down the stairs from Zanders’s apartment. “Interesting that nothing was there. It’s almost as if he didn’t live here. Then given all the research we found in his lab and locker maybe that makes sense too.”
Steve nodded. “Maybe he has another place. Like his family has other property he could’ve gone to. Somewhere in all this mess, we still have to find your brother.”
London didn’t bother answering. He hated that he hadn’t been able to say good-bye to his brother. A part of him knew it was already too late. The thought of his brother dying slowly, alone somewhere, with nobody looking out for him, hurt, cut through his heart in a deep way. He didn’t understand who his brother had become, but that didn’t mean he wanted such a death for him.
“Three floors to this building. There’s still hope,” Steve said. “Zanders was on the top floor. I suggest we start at the bottom, check all the apartments, ask if anybody has seen Zanders and ask about your brother.”
London nodded. “I want to go to the basement also. See if any storage lockers are down there. The cops can canvass the rest of the hallways. I’m heading to the boiler area first.”
He opened the door to the stairs leading down, turned toward Steve, who stood with a frown on his face. London grinned. “Are you are coming with me, or are you going in the field?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “When you put it that way, I’m obviously with you.”
They slipped down the stairs to the basement area. London found a set of light switches. He hit them to illuminate the decent-size basement with storage compartments. Most were an open construction of slatted wood to see inside—a collection of bikes and snowboards, old furniture, suitcases and boxes.
As they walked along, he searched for the number that correlated to Zanders’s apartment. “Not on this row so it must be around the corner.”
They kept going until they came to one that was totally stuffed. London saw through the slatted door that boxes were up against it. A shiny new lock was on the outside. He glanced at Steve.
Steve shrugged and said, “The lock might be new, but the hinges are old.”
London reached out, and, with a hard yank, the hinges and lock came right off the frame, popping the wooden door open. He could barely squeeze through the line of boxes.
He froze.
Beyond the boxes, lying off to one side on a cot was a male. London checked for a pulse. The blankets were tucked up tight to the man’s chin. He pulled them back and gasped. It was his brother. He dropped to Derek’s side, twisting to look back at Steve. “Call an ambulance.”
Steve gave him a startled look, then walked out of sight to make the call.
“Derek? Derek, can you hear me?” Derek’s body was cool, still. His breath faint, barely audible. London tried to wake him, but his brother appeared to be in a deep coma. Unconscious with death wailing at the door. In that Stefan had been right.
A voice slammed into his head. I told you.
London bolted to his feet and spun around in a circle, looking for Stefan.
Stefan’s voice rang through his head, strident, loud. I’ve been here. The same place I’ve always been. I’ve been knocking on the outside of that goddamned thick skull of yours for over a year now.
Hesitantly London asked, Stefan?
Yes. Who the hell do you think goes around talking to people this way?
His voice was so full of exasperation that, in any other circumstance, London would have smiled. He stared at his brother. Did you know he was here?
I didn’t know he was here. I knew he was dying.
London nodded. He stared at his brother, whose emaciated form was a mere shell of the big boisterous young man he’d been. What happened to him?
Jealousy. Insecurity. Complete lack of self-confidence.
London heard the words, but they didn’t make any sense.
Finally Stefan said, He’s been poisoned.
London dropped to his brother’s side again at the tone of Stefan’s voice. It was sad, sorrowful. Who did this to him? He didn’t deserve this.
He did it to himself. Check around. You think he’s been a prisoner in there?
The door was locked. He couldn’t have gotten out.
Stefan snorted. You snapped off the lock with a hand. Only a visual deterrent to anybody on the outside. If your brother wanted to get out, he could have.
But why? What was his connection to Zanders?
You know what direction to look. It’s up to you to find proof. Only this time make sure Fern stays out of it.
And just like that he was gone. London pulled out his phone and tried to call Fern. The reception was terrible down there. He pocketed his phone and, unable to help his brother, got up, looking at the rest of the room.
Folders and files were all over the floor. One of them had his brother’s name on it. He flipped through it, realizing his brother had willingly been taking poison. Administered by Zanders. London shook his head. “Derek, why?”
But, of course, got no answer.
He stared at his brother, his heart aching for what could have been.
Ten minutes passed, then twenty. And still no sirens. No sign of Steve. He’d probably gone outside the building to make his call. Maybe he went back upstairs to get the men’s help? To bring them to the basement? No, that didn’t make sense. Shit. No way would London leave his brother. Not right now.
He kept going through the files. He saw the same names repeatedly. The ones Zanders had killed to hide his poisonous actions. Maybe he’d even meant to kill Derek too. Or had it been Derek’s willful decision? London would have to read the entire file to know. It would have been nice if his brother had left a suicide note. Kept things tidy. But of course not. He’d never been accommodating.
At the bottom of the heap he found files with notes in Fern’s mother’s handwriting. He flicked through them, looking for answers. One file caught his eye.
Elliot Marsh. Condition critical—patient terminal.
Initially administering poisons for comfort. Patient is allergic to morphine. He shows a slight improvement. We’ve switched up the poisons, the drugs, to see if we can help extend his life.
And the notes went on and on. In the end, the patient died six months into her care. But then he’d been terminally ill, so no shock there. Marsh’s wife’s file was on the floor. She too had been a patient. Terminal. Experimental drugs administered, drugs created from their poisonous plants.
He shook his head. “Why would they try some of these plants?” But then again, as he understood from Fern, many plants were used as medicines. So maybe it wasn’t so far off after all. And desperate people did desperate things.
But this family’s story was heartbreaking. Both parents had terminal illnesses, and they had two children. The mother’s genetics had passed down to the daughter. And she died less than two years after both her parents, leaving the boy the sole survivor.
He wanted to believe Fern’s mother had tried to help them. He had no idea where she stopped at the end of the day, whether she just administered too strong a dose to put them out of their misery, or whether she moved on to other patients, cold-heartedly taking notes as to how her patients had passed. It was hard to think any good thoughts about Bethany Geller after hearing of Fern’s childhood. But maybe that was doing Bethany a disservice.
In the name of science, many experiments had been done, hurting a patient, but allowing them to save thousands more. He flipped through Mrs. Marsh’s file to see if anything else was of importance. The police would have a heyday going through all this. A family photo was included in the file. Two kids, two parents. Happy, smiling, before everything blew apart. He looked over the picture. The only surviving member, a boy, smiled at the camera, not knowing his world would never be the same again. London flipped it over and read the names on the back, confirming it was the family photo.
And then he read the name of the boy, and his heart froze. Slowly standing, the picture in his hand, he turned to face the gate. “No ambulance is coming, is there?”
Silence rang hollowly throughout the storage lockers.
Complete silence.
London turned to look at Derek, still alive, but his life slipping away. And London couldn’t save him.
London, grief slowly welling up, realized what a fool he’d been. He’d not seen a viper in his own backyard. It had had to be someone close to Fern. London just hadn’t seen that connection because he’d been so busy looking in the forest that he hadn’t seen the trees.
“There’s no point in hiding anymore, Steve. Not now that I know who you are.”
Steve stepped so London could see him at the other end of the small pathway between all the boxes and stared at him. “I wondered when you’d figure that out. I had hoped you never would,” he confessed. “For a time I had hoped she’d never come back. But, when I thought it over, I couldn’t resist trying again.”
“Why? Why do all this? Why kill Derek? Pam? And why Reggie?”
Steve snorted. “Reggie and Pam were my foster family. The guy is as much of a loser as he possibly could be. But I didn’t kill him.”
“Where the hell is he then?
“No idea. But, I’ll be checking out that address you gave me as soon as we’re done here. If ever a guy was good at hiding, it’s him. The same as he always did when things got tough. Pam was nice to me. She’s the only mother I’ve known—because Fern’s mother killed my own.”
“That’s not true. They were all ill.”
“Yes, they were. But they believed in Fern’s mother. Her lies. They didn’t take any modern medicine, like chemotherapy. They wouldn’t do anything except what Bethany Geller told them to do. And she killed them. As surely as I stand here before you today, she took them all from me one by one.”
London could just imagine how Steve felt as a boy, watching his family picked off one by one. And there was only one common denominator—Fern’s mother.
“I doubt Bethany tried to kill them. For all you know, she was trying to help them.”
“She was a quack. But my parents believed in her lies and her string of half-truths,” he cried passionately. “She deceived them, and they paid the ultimate price.”
London stared at his partner in bewilderment. “Why did you wait so long before you decided to attack Fern?”
“I was going to leave it. I wasn’t going to do anything. I thought I’d dealt with it. Until the former head of the conservatory died, along with three of his family members. And something about that just hit home.” He shook his head. “I knew I couldn’t walk away. I knew that would never be a choice. I had to do something.”
“So you didn’t kill Ben and those other three people?”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. But I made it look like it had been Fern. After all, she was working in the same damn lab her parents had been in. She was picking up all her mother’s work, carrying on the same dastardly deeds of her mother before her. I couldn’t let her do that. It was only a matter of time before she went down the same road her mother had.”
“But you couldn’t find any real evidence to put her away …”
Steve shrugged. “No. I tried hard though.”
“You couldn’t because she didn’t do it. Zanders did.”
Steve stared off in the distance. “I didn’t hear what Zanders said today. I’m sorry I missed that. I had questions. I’m hoping the answers I have been looking for will finally show up in his files.”
“Zanders admitted to having killed all those people. Why did you pin all this guilt on Fern when she didn’t do anything?”
Steve snarled. “Because she did. She and her family. They’re responsible for my entire family dying.”
London shook his head, not knowing how to get through to his partner. “Her parents may have been indirectly responsible, but not Fern. She didn’t do anything. Her mother tortured Fern all her life. Her mother didn’t do anything for her out of love. She treated Fern worse than she did her patients.”
An odd spark lit the dark depths of Steve’s eyes for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I killed Pam. I didn’t kill the other two people in the conservatory. Not even sure they were murdered. But, if they were, I’d lay the blame for that at Zanders’s door.”
“And yet you still killed Pam? And tried to pin it on Fern?”
“I’m sorry about Pam.” He shrugged. “I planned to kill Reggie too, but he suspected something before walking in the door, begging me to not hurt Pam before he even saw her body inside. I dusted him with a toxic powder, but he raced away instead and only got a little bit. Still I’d hoped it would be enough. Considering he’s still missing, maybe I did kill him after all. And typical of Fern, she changed her flights at the last moment and thus had an alibi. I couldn’t believe it when she was acquitted before. But I hadn’t killed anyone at that point. I hadn’t done anything other than plant evidence and make it look like it was her. That’s what I could do. But I knew she was coming back now. I knew this time there had to be real evidence. Or she’d walk, and the world would never be safe again.”
“Did you throw the poison canister into her house?”
Steve shook his head. “No, that wasn’t me. It was an odd moment to realize I wasn’t the only one after her. I wondered if it was Zanders. I’d reconnected with him years ago. A morbid curiosity to see if he was carrying on Dr. Geller’s research.”
London was still trying to figure out just how complicit his partner had been all these years. It was bad enough he had killed Pam, the only mother he’d known, but London needed to know if Steve had killed anyone else. “Did you have anything else to do with this mess? Did you kill anyone else?”
Steve smirked. “I had to get rid of your brother.”
London’s heart seized, his breath caught in his throat. He glanced at his brother, even now dying, and whispered, “Did you do this?”
“Well, he is not dead yet. But, by the time the police find his body, he certainly will be.”
London closed his eyes and swayed in place. “What did you do?”
“It didn’t take much of anything. Of course all these killings had to be done with poison. It was kind of fascinating reading. My mother took notes, you know. She kept notes of everything that Bethany Geller did. Notes of everything the family did with Fern’s mother. Dr. Geller talked a lot. My mom taped Bethany’s conversations. Fascinating. Listening to those tapes, I learned a lot about poisons. Poisoning your brother was easy. And then I sent him to Zanders for help.” He smiled. “I liked that twist.”
“How did you poison him?”
Steve opened his eyes wide. “I put a fine powder in his bed. I put it on his couch so he breathed it in. It takes time to make someone ill. But, once it locks into your systems, you decline. According to the research, very little is known about it.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters.” Steve angled a look at Derek. “He’s dead finally, isn’t he?”
London swallowed, didn’t want to confirm his brother’s death. “You killed Pam and Derek?” It was way worse than he’d first thought. That anyone would hurt his brother. “My brother is a fool, but he didn’t deserve to be killed.”
“He so deserved to be killed. I should’ve done it a long time ago, when he let the bitch get acquitted. Do you really think your brother worked for a living? You really think he deserved the money I paid him to lie on the stand? To fabricate that conversation that she’d killed everyone? The little bits and pieces of evidence found, that was all him. I couldn’t get close enough. I didn’t want to get close enough to that bitch.”
Steve smiled. “It took Derek a long time to break down. Partly because I only gave him a little bit of poison at a time. He blamed Fern. And a confrontation they had had. I just helped it along. That was fun. It was also fun to watch you be so upset that he was fading away and becoming such a neurotic mess. Derek was a nuisance. The world’s much better off without him. Zanders, … well, he knew it all had to stop, and, at the very end, he knew he had to go too. So he took himself out. Still, I wish I’d been there to see it.”
“That was you who broke into Fern’s place?”
Steve nodded. “Absolutely. I stayed in the basement. Listened to some of that mumbo-jumbo. What a joke. But then she went out the back bedroom window,” he said. “I had to go out the same way, and then I lost her in the neighborhood. She’s got the damnedest luck.”
London took a step toward the gate.
Steve shook his head. “You know I can’t let you go.”
“You can’t leave me in here. My brother needs medical help.” At least London hoped that Derek could still be saved at this point.
“Your brother needs a coffin. And soon so will you.” Steve’s voice was gentle.
London stared at his partner in shock. He edged closer to Steve. “You poisoned me too?”
“Every time I made your coffee, picked up a coffee or brought you a coffee,” he said. “You really should stop drinking that stuff. It can be deadly.” He smirked at that. “Your system won’t recover from that poison. You won’t get that chance. Because the last couple days I upped the doses. I don’t know how it is you haven’t been showing the same effects,” he said in frustration. “According to Zanders, you should be almost bent over, crippled by now.” Again he smiled. “And, of course, I’ve dusted this place. Your skin absorbed that. You should be having trouble breathing.” He glared at London. “You should be on your knees collapsed by now. That’s why I’m back here, out of the way.”
And that’s when London realized that, although Steve was technically here, he’d never stepped into the locker, as if he didn’t want to touch—or to breathe—anything. London turned in a slow circle, taking another step closer to Steve, now seeing the dust. The particles in the air moved every time he did. Of course, as soon as he thought about it, he realized just how unhealthy he did feel, how his lungs burned, how his eyes stung. He turned completely around and asked, “Why?”
“Because I can. Because I must. For me to walk away from this free and clear, it’s what I have to do.”
“Steve,” Fern called from the end of the hallway. “Have you seen London?”
London took one more step and opened his mouth to warn her, but Steve smiled, took a step closer to London and shot him with a tranq gun. Pain burned the side of his neck, and such a horrible burn scorched the inside of his jaw, through his throat and down his stomach. He sank to his knees. Fern, who had already seen too much and had so little chance to experience anything new, was in terrible danger.
London watched, helpless as she slowly approached Steve. “So it was you.” She shook her head. “I wondered.”
“You did not wonder,” Steve snarled. “No way you could have known.”
“Of course I could. I can see the green of the poison you’ve been experimenting with all around you at this moment. I wondered why you were in my bedroom. Why you’d hidden out in my basement. But I never saw the exact same shade of green twice, so I didn’t understand it. But it was the mix of different poisons changing the colors, and the age since you’d last touched them. I didn’t understand so it was as if you were someone else.” It also explained why he’d been able to cross Sutherland’s security system. She’d let him inside several times – making his energy acceptable to the system. “I’m rather new to seeing all these things, you know.” She spoke in a conversational tone.
“You can’t see any of that shit,” Steve retorted. “Even if you could, it just makes you a bigger freak than I first thought.”
London could only watch as he slowly sagged to the floor. But Fern wouldn’t look at him. He wanted to mouth that he loved her and that she was to live a life past this, not to mourn him. But she refused to look at him. Her hand reached out to the slatted wall as if to casually lean against it.
“You can’t save him, you know,” Steve said. “The poison has already taken effect.”
“Of course it has.” She shrugged.
Steve pulled out his gun and pointed it at her. “I’ll do one better.” And he shot her with the same weapon he’d fired at London.
It hit her, throwing her back just enough that she lost her footing and fell against the wooden slats. Panicked, but failing quickly, London scooted forward, half-out half-in the storage space, reaching for Fern.
Steve chuckled. “There you go. Fern kills London, then takes her own life. How very perfect. And of course, Fern had already killed Derek. A three-way love triangle, all ending up in a murder-suicide. Perfect.” He pocketed the weapon and turned to walk away, calling back, “See you in hell.”
London barely heard a multitude of voices, yelling, “Stop! Raise your hands. Police! You’re surrounded.”
And then he slowly lost consciousness.