Wednesday, February 24, 6:10 p.m.
Eve jumped in her waiting room chair when someone touched her shoulder. Hunched over her laptop, she jerked up her chin to see Carleton Pierce standing in front of her. She took the earbuds from her ears. “Dr. Pierce. You startled me.”
“I said your name, but you didn’t hear me.”
Eve gestured to her laptop. “I was listening to some music. Trying to pass the time.” In reality she’d been watching video from the local TV news online archive. Several of the crime beat entries were Noah’s cases. But so far, she’d found nothing.
“I understand your friend was hurt. I hope he’s all right.”
“He will be.” Rising, she studied him curiously. People from the bar often looked different when she saw them in another environment, but Pierce looked essentially the same. He wore another expensive suit, gold cufflinks winking at his wrists. “Thank you.”
He took a step back and met her eyes, smiling kindly. “You’ve had a rough few days, Eve. I was on my way home from the police station and thought I’d stop in to see how you are.”
“That’s nice of you.” Which made her suspicious. Which in turn made her ashamed at her paranoia. Get a grip, Eve. “I’m okay. I’ll be more okay when they catch this guy.”
“I got a call from Dean Jacoby today.”
Eve’s eyes narrowed. Jacoby was Donner’s boss. “Why?”
“Well, because he’s my friend,” he said with a tolerant smile. “And because we were talking about my teaching a class next term, because Donner’s retiring.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, then frowned when his words sank in. “Donner’s retiring?”
“Yes. Apparently he gave notice a few weeks ago, but that’s not for public consumption. I trust you’ll be discreet.”
A few weeks ago? “Of course,” Eve murmured.
“At any rate, I didn’t mention you to Jacoby, but he mentioned your study. The college got a request yesterday for all your project files and cooperated fully with the police. He knew I worked with the police and wanted an update. He wanted to know how the police had made the connection to Marshall’s psychology department.”
“And you said?” Eve said calmly.
“That I was not at liberty to disclose elements of an ongoing investigation. I wanted you to know that they’re asking questions. Jacoby asked me and my wife to join him for dinner tonight. If you’d like to join us, it would be an opportunity for you to explain your actions before you’re accused of anything. Once he files anything formal, you’re in the system.” His lips curved ruefully. “Plus, you’ll get to enjoy the best prime rib in the city. If I remember grad school correctly, I ate a lot of bologna sandwiches.”
She made herself smile back. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, sir, but I have to stay here tonight. My friend may need me. I have your card and almost called ten times. But things keep happening.” She gestured to the waiting room. “I’ve been a bit busy.”
“Are you sure, Eve?” he asked, serious now. “The police team just made the decision to take the Shadowland connection public, to warn potential victims. Soon any decisions on what, who, and when you tell will be out of your hands.”
Eve’s shoulders sagged. “I knew this was an eventuality. I-”
“Eve?” Tom had returned, Liza still in tow. Liza looked better but Tom was panicked. He gently pushed his friend into a chair and rushed over. “What’s wrong with David?”
She realized Tom had seen Pierce and gotten the wrong idea. “Nothing. David’s still getting scanned. This isn’t one of his doctors.” She hesitated. “Tom, this is Dr. Pierce. Dr. Pierce, my friend, Tom. Dr. Pierce’s here to talk to me about… school.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Tom said, warily.
Pierce gave Tom a polite nod, then turned back to Eve. “Don’t wait too long.”
“What the hell was that about?” Tom demanded when Pierce was gone.
Eve sank into her chair, her head now throbbing. “Long story.”
Tom sat next to Eve. “I’ve got time, Evie.”
“Your friend looks better,” Eve said.
“Yeah, and now you look like shit,” Tom shot back. “Who was that guy?”
“Tom, I… I’ve done something that could get me kicked out of school.”
He stared at her. “What the hell is this?”
“You know the women who’ve been murdered recently? The ones that looked like suicides? They were all participants in my Shadow-land study.”
“Shit. But how could they possibly blame you for that?”
“They can’t. But I know the victims’ identities because I looked at files I shouldn’t have. It’s cheating and I could get expelled.”
Tom’s face fell. “No way. You’ve worked so hard… Oh, Evie.”
She patted his hand. “I know. But if it makes it any easier, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It’ll be all right, however it turns out. I’ll find my feet again.”
“You always find your feet,” he said quietly. “I’ve always admired that about you.”
Eve’s throat tightened. “Thank you. I needed that.”
He slid his arm around her in a hard, brotherly hug. “I always thought it would be Mom or Dana getting busted for breaking the rules. Never thought it would be you.”
Eve’s laugh was shaky. “Go bug David. He’s probably done getting scanned.”
“I wanna meet your date. Got to make sure he’s good enough for you.”
Too good for me, she thought sadly. “I’ll introduce you before I leave. Now be gone.”
She watched Tom go, shaken. Dean Jacoby asking questions… The Shadowland connection soon all over the news… Buckland missing and probably dead…
Don’t think about that. She tried to draw her mind away from the fear, pulling her computer to her lap out of habit. Think. Buckland was missing. She’d been searching articles on Noah, but Kurt Buckland had also been a victim. She’d been so unnerved last night that she hadn’t dug very deep into Buckland’s articles.
Kurt Buckland, she typed into the search screen, and started reading the results.
Wednesday, February 24, 6:10 p.m.
Millhouse’s lawyer stood up when Noah and Jack entered the interview room. “This is outrageous,” he began. “My client-”
“Is free to go,” Noah said. “But we’d appreciate answers to some questions first.”
“My sister committed suicide. I don’t understand why I’m here like a criminal.”
Noah sat next to him. “Your sister did not commit suicide, sir.”
Larry Millhouse’s mouth fell open. “Are you saying my sister was murdered?”
“Yes,” Jack said. “That’s exactly what we’re saying. We need you to tell us exactly how you found the scene, before you cut your sister down and changed her clothes.”
Millhouse looked away. “She was dressed like a whore, in a low-cut red dress, and this… makeup. Amy never dressed like that. And her eyes… they were open. Glued.”
“What about shoes?” Jack asked.
“High heels. Red. Amy never in a million years would wear shoes like that.”
“And the window?” Noah asked.
“Wide open.”
“Was there a note?” Jack finished and Millhouse shook his head.
“No,” he said miserably. “So I wrote one. My mother was so upset, I just wanted to make her see that Amy really had loved her.”
Jack looked at Millhouse sternly. “All of those elements are common to five murders. By altering the scene, you made it harder for us to realize what was going on before four more women lost their lives.”
Millhouse glanced nervously at his attorney. “Am I in trouble?”
“The powers that be say no,” Jack said. “So you’re free to go.”
But Millhouse didn’t move from his chair. His eyes had closed, his face still pale. “Somebody killed my sister,” he murmured, as if it was just sinking in. “Why?”
“We don’t know why,” Noah said, “but we do know that he’s targeted his victims through an online computer game. Shadowland.”