She went back to her room to get ready for school.
Tuesday, February 23, 7:25 a.m.
Noah and Jack found Ian at his desk, typing a report. “I was going to bring a report to Abbott’s 8:00 a.m. meeting,” Ian said. “You didn’t have to come down.”
“We’re stuck on the snake,” Noah said. “We don’t know why he used it and were hoping you found something that would shine some light on it.”
“Because he’s a sick bastard?” Ian said sourly.
“Told you so,” Jack said.
“I was hoping for a more scientific explanation,” Noah said. “Anything, Ian?”
“Plenty.” He pulled the sheet from Christy’s body. “She has the same puncture on her neck and was positive for ketamine, just like Martha. Unlike Martha, Christy was restrained at her ankles. The rope burns are only on the front, bruising on the back.”
“She was tied to a chair,” Noah said.
“I think so. There is also swelling in her elbows.” Ian looked up, his eyes weary. “We see that elbow swelling when the arms are kept crossed over the torso for long periods of time, like this.” He demonstrated. “But there’s no evidence of arm or wrist restraint.”
Jack frowned. “Straitjacket?”
“It makes sense,” Ian said. “A straitjacket will immobilize without leaving marks. I found bruising between her shoulder blades, same height as the chairs around her dining room table. I think she struggled, repeatedly rocking back against the chair.”
“Trying to get away from the snake,” Jack said, horror in his voice.
Noah cringed at the thought. “He tied her to a chair and set a rattlesnake on her?”
Jack looked ill. “If she struggled, she wasn’t sedated. Why the ketamine?”
“Good question. Perhaps he sedated her before, to get the jacket on her,” Ian said. “Officially, strangulation was once again the cause of death.”
“He terrified her,” Noah murmured. “Why? Other than the fact he is a sick bastard?”
“Sometimes it’s just because they can,” Jack said.
Noah sighed. “True. But why a snake? How did he know that would scare her?”
“Most people are afraid of snakes,” Jack said thinly. “It’s a common phobia.”
“I suppose. Still doesn’t feel right. What else, Ian?”
Ian shrugged. “She ate waffles a few hours before she died, with maple syrup.”
“And time of death would have been when?” Noah asked.
“Sometime between five and six yesterday morning.”
Noah did the math. “So she ate waffles around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. She either made them in her own kitchen or she went out.”
“I didn’t see any evidence that she cooked,” Jack said. “I think she went out. And at that time of the morning, there aren’t many places that serve. This is a good break.”
“So we take her photo to the all-night diners and waffle houses around town.”
“She also filled her tank with gas. There were traces of hydrocarbons on her hands.”
“A waffle house near a gas station,” Noah mused. “When will you get Samantha?”
“Sometime after eight. Since I’ve given you my prelim, I’ll stay here and start on Samantha Altman’s autopsy as soon as she arrives. I’ll be in touch.”
Tuesday, February 23, 7:45 a.m.
Eve was frying eggs when David stumbled into her kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
“You need a new couch, Evie. I could feel every spring.”
She handed him a cup of coffee. “I know. I got it from a yard sale.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Nice to have someone cook for me occasionally.”
She put their plates on the table. “Don’t any of those other firemen cook?”
“Out of a Hamburger Helper box. Hey, these are pretty good.” “Even I can fry an egg. So, you gonna fix my roof today?”
“If it stays dry. Who was that on the phone earlier?”
Eve picked at her breakfast. “Noah Webster. They found the first murdered woman on my list. She’d signed up under her married name, but got divorced. Three for three.”
David sighed. “Sucks, kid. But you still aren’t responsible.”
“Neither Samantha nor Christy had played Shadowland before we placed our recruiting ad. They were there to be preyed upon because they signed up for my study.”
“And if you’d asked them to take a daily walk in the park and they’d been mugged? Would that have been your fault, too?”
He was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. “No.”
He set back to work on his breakfast. “You break into Shadowland yet?”
“Not yet. I upped my network privileges, but I still haven’t got the keys to the kingdom. I’m a lot closer though. Shouldn’t take too much longer.”
“So you’re going to stay here all day to work on that, right?”
“No. I’m not going to stay here all day so you can watch over me. But thanks.”
He frowned. “Then where will you be today?”
“On campus. Somebody’s gotten access to our study files. It’s the only way he could have picked all three women.”
His frown deepened. “And what will you do should you find this person?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to make any citizen’s arrests. I’ll call Webster.”
“And what if he comes after you when you’re alone on campus? What then?”
“I’m licensed to carry a concealed. I never leave the house without my gun in my computer bag. Except for yesterday.” She bit at her lip. “I was so rattled over seeing Christy hanging like that, I forgot a lot of things.”
“Considering you were cuffed and questioned, it’s probably good you didn’t have your gun with you. I’ll drive you to school. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Tuesday, February 23, 8:05 a.m.
Abbott tossed the morning Mirror on the table. “That punk reporter Buckland was at your scene last night,” he snapped. “What happened to securing the perimeter?”
Jack frowned. “I didn’t see Kurt Buckland there yesterday.”
Micki pulled the paper closer to where she and Carleton Pierce sat. “I didn’t either, and Christy’s house is pretty remote. We would have seen his car if he’d driven up. Must have parked a ways off and used a telephoto.”
Noah scanned the front-page article whose headline screamed RED DRESS KILLER and in smaller caps, THREE WOMEN DEAD. “He’s named all three women, including Samantha. Here’s a quote from her mother. ‘We knew our daughter could never have killed herself.’ ” He passed the paper to Jack. “I bet he was following us yesterday when we went to see Samantha’s mother.”
“Asshole reporter even added the part about the snake,” Jack said, pushing the paper away in disgust. “We would have held that back.”
“Find out where he was hiding,” Abbott said grimly. “I want to know how he knew about the red dresses and the snake and I want him kept away from our crime scenes.”
Carleton looked uncomfortable. “Are you sure that’s the best approach? It’ll just make him more determined. Maybe he would make a better ally.”
Abbott scowled. “I’m not embedding any media in my teams.”
“I didn’t say strap him to your chest like a papoose, Bruce,” Carleton said mildly. “I’m familiar with minds like his. If you deny him access, he’ll go on the offensive.”
“The doc’s right,” Jack said. “I’d rather control what this Buck-land guy knows. On the bright side, at least he didn’t know about the connection.”
Carleton looked around the table. “And that would be?”
“Ever hear of a computer game called Shadowland?” Noah asked before Jack could mention Eve. Noah wasn’t sure Carleton would be allowed to keep her involvement from her faculty advisor. Ethically Carleton might have to tell.
“I never got into computer games,” Carleton said. “But I take it that the victims did.”
“Big time,” Jack said. “Hours a day.”