"Okay" was the hesitant reply.
"A few weeks ago, you escorted a man named John Leppman while he was visiting your PD, is that correct?"
"Sure," said Lloyd, some of the tension easing in his voice. "He had to meet with a bunch of people, like the chief, somebody from accounting, and a couple of the detectives. I guess it was the deputy chief who didn't want him to get lost in the building."
"And how did that go?" Sam asked leadingly.
"Good. Fine. He met who he was supposed to meet, and then he left."
"You were with him the whole time?"
"Yeah. Never left his side."
"What kinds of things did he do there?"
"I didn't get it all. It was computer stuff. He helps out catching people through the Internet, so some of it was case related, some of it was schmoozing-like with the chief-and the accounting part was so he could get paid back for something. I don't really know what that was."
"How would you describe his demeanor during the visit?"
"He was cool. A nice guy. Relaxed, friendly. I didn't pick up on anything wrong."
"He never tried to ditch you, however subtly, like with a sudden trip to the bathroom?"
Lloyd thought back for a moment before answering. "No. He was only there for a little over an hour. Guess he never got the urge."
"And you didn't, either?"
"Nope. Just his daughter."
There was a sudden silence in the room.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hi," Joe said, speaking for the first time. "This is Agent Gunther. Leppman had his daughter with him?"
"Yeah."
"And she did go to the bathroom?"
"Right-once."
"She asked to do that shortly after you passed the supply room, is that correct?"
Now, the pause was on Lloyd's part, as he assimilated the question and its possible meanings. "Yeah-I think it was. How did you know that?"
"It connects to something we're looking into. What was she like? Wendy, right?"
"Yeah-Wendy. Gee, I don't know. Nice enough lady-a little older than me… kind of wired. She laughed a lot, talked too much. I remember her father asking if she was all right."
"What did she say?"
"Just that she was in a really good mood. She seemed more nervous to me."
"And after she got back from the bathroom?" Sammie asked.
"Kind of the same."
"She carrying a bag or purse?"
"Purse."
"And she kept that with her at all times?" Joe asked.
"Yeah."
"Officer Lloyd," Joe continued. "This is important. Think back and tell us if her body language concerning the purse was any different after her trip to the bathroom."
There was a thoughtful hesitation before the young cop said, "She wore it slung across her body when she came back. And it was slid forward, so that it rested less to her side and more across her stomach."
"Great," Joe told him. "You're really good at this. One last question: Did anything at all happen when the three of you passed the supply room?"
"Not really."
"What's that mean?"
"Well," Lloyd answered, "neither one of them did anything, but I noticed that the door was open and Aho was gone."
"Nothing was said?"
"I might've said, 'Huh-wonder where Matt is?' or something like that. It surprised me, 'cause Matt's a real stickler about keeping that area secure."
"The Leppmans didn't say anything?"
"He asked me what the room was, and I told him, but that was it."
"Could you see anything through the open door?" Sam asked him.
They could almost hear him shrug over the phone. "Usual junk-ticket books, pads, a few Taser cartridges, bundles of those plastic envelopes they use for parking tickets, maybe some pens." He thought some more. "I don't know. There might've been a couple of those Cordura equipment pouches, like for cuffs or OC spray, for our duty belts. Guys are always asking for things like that."
Joe glanced around the room to see if anyone had any more questions. "Okay, Officer Lloyd. Appreciate your time. This has been a big help."
"Sure. My pleasure."
The line went dead and Sam hit the Disconnect button on the phone console.
"No question Wendy swiped the cartridge," she said before asking rhetorically, "but was Dad in on it?"
Joe was staring at the floor, buried in thought. "We better find out," he responded, adding, "and I'm not so sure I'm going to like the answer. Something's making me think maybe Leppman's used his daughter for more than just that Taser cartridge."
"What d'you mean?" Willy wanted to know.
"Something Hillstrom discovered," Joe answered him. "Remember? She said the chemicals that killed Nashman were mixed in with a cookie he'd just eaten."
"Yeah?"
"Well, how does that fit? The guy checks in, takes his two key cards, goes to the room, sticks one of the keys to the outside of the door in an envelope, and waits for his date. Where's the cookie come in?"
"With the date," Lester said simply.
"I'm not gonna open my door to you, big fellah," Willy told him, seeing Joe's point. "Not if you're carrying a goddamn cake with candles."
Sam and Lester looked at him.
"He's a guy," Willy said with eyes wide. "I'm expecting a girl, for Christ's sake."
"My point exactly," Joe said with a smile. "But there's more. He is expecting a girl-a young girl. And what he sees walking through the door-which is why there had to be a key outside, or he might not have let her in-is a woman in her twenties."
"Bummer number one," Willy chimed in, playing Joe's second fiddle.
"Correct," Joe resumed. "So, she's got some seductive one-liner or something to stall him, and a cookie as a peace offering. He eats because that's what you do for a pretty girl when she's caught you off balance."
"And then you die," Willy concluded. "Bummer number two."
"Which," Sam suggested, dragging out the word for emphasis, "now means you have a one-hundred-and-ninety-pound body on your hands."
"So what?" Willy asked. "Nashman wasn't moved."
Sam laughed. "Exactly. Metz was. Why? Same basic m.o., same motive, same people."
"Because with Metz, you had more than one person in on it," Joe suggested.
"Yeah," she agreed. "So, who was stuck alone with Nashman?"
He looked up at them. "I think it's time for that chat with the Leppmans."
Chapter 26
The initial sound was slight to almost unnoticeable, making Joe look up from his paperwork for no reason he could fathom. Its source, once revealed, however, held no mystery whatsoever. A woman was standing like a wraith at the office door Joe had left open for circulation. Her features were indistinct, the only lighting coming from Joe's desk lamp, but her intent seemed clear. She had a gun in her hand.
Joe had seen only one photograph of this woman-from a brochure that Sam had collected while visiting her medical practice-and it was hardly reflective of the person standing before him now. But it seemed reasonable when he asked, "Dr. Gartner?"
"Don't move." John Leppman's wife's voice was a taut monotone.
"I'm not. What do you want?"
"That you leave us alone."
"Am I bothering you?" Joe's brain was working overtime, trying to bridge the gaps between what she knew, what he knew, and what she thought he might know. Incongruously, he also made a mental note to address the building's lax security-the door downstairs had no metal detector, and a lock so flimsy, Joe himself had popped it open one night when he forgot his keys.
At the time, that had been a good thing.
"Spare me. You people have been digging into every corner of our lives."
"Are you surprised?" Joe switched to considering his own survival. No one rational walked into a cop's office with a gun-not that someone hadn't done precisely that in his home just twenty-four hours earlier. But what was this one hoping to gain? Joe doubted that it was her own self-preservation. Sandy Gartner was here for her sole surviving daughter.