He swung his feet to the floor, sat up and leaned forward, looking at Annie. “I think Virginia Thorburn knows more than she’s telling us,” he said.
Annie glanced at Jake. “What makes you say that?”
“It was something she said before we left, that she thought it best to leave Adam alone and let him make up his own mind. I think she might know where he is, but she doesn’t want to turn him in against his will.”
Annie thought about Jake’s statement, then asked, “But if she knows, how do we get that information from her?”
Jake shrugged. “I have no idea, but if she’s covering for him, he might show up at the house again.”
“The police are watching the house.”
“True enough,” Jake said. “But she knows that. She might meet him elsewhere.”
“So you think we should tail her?”
Jake sat back and shrugged one shoulder. “Just a thought. I’m trying to come up with some ideas.”
The doorbell rang and Matty dropped his comic, sprang to his feet, and ran to the door. A moment later, Hank’s voice came from the foyer. “Hey, Matty.”
“Hey, Uncle Hank.”
The cop followed Matty into the living room, set his briefcase on the floor, and sat on the other end of the couch. Matty dropped in between Hank and his father.
“I assume you didn’t find Adam Thorburn yet?” Jake asked.
Hank shook his head. “Not yet, but as soon as he shows his face, we’ll get him. He has to come out of hiding some time.”
“They showed a photo of him on the news,” Annie said. “The whole town must know what he looks like by now.”
“And Teddy White thinks we can help,” Jake said. “He was almost begging us. We took the case, but we don’t know where to start.”
“If we don’t find Adam right away, it’s just a matter of time,” Hank said. “He’s on medication to control his schizophrenia. Assuming he has it with him, he’ll run out eventually and have to find more or he’ll be unstable.”
Annie looked at Matty. Her son was intent on the conversation, his eyes moving back and forth between Hank and Jake. She often let him listen in, but when things turned to more gruesome matters, she would rather he didn’t hear.
“Matty, will you go to your room for now?” she asked.
Matty frowned. “What did I do, Mom?”
“Nothing. It’s just for a few minutes.” She pointed to the doorway. “Read a book or something for now.”
“Aw, Mom.” Matty slid off the couch and picked up his comic book. He turned to Hank and faked a pout. “Bye, Uncle Hank.”
Hank leaned forward for a fist bump. “See you, Matty.”
The boy frowned at his mother, then turned and sauntered away, slowly thumping up the stairs.
Annie leaned forward and looked at Hank. “When Adam runs out of medication, he might kill again. If he’s already unstable with his medication, how much worse will he be without it?”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Hank said. “The murder of Nina White was so cold-blooded and brutal, the next one might be as horrendous.” He picked up his briefcase, laid it in his lap, and flipped it open. He pulled out a business card and studied it. “I dropped by to see Adam’s psychiatrist this afternoon. Dr. Zalora. He was shocked when he heard the news, but not surprised. He expressed concern Adam had deteriorated lately and they were running out of medical options to stabilize his behavior.”
“They’ve tried everything?” Annie asked.
“Not everything,” Hank said. “There’re some more aggressive medications, but they’re new and very expensive. It’s a question of money as well. Mrs. Thorburn has limited funds, and there’s no government assistance available for the medication.”
“So either way, his actions are completely out of control,” Jake said.
Hank closed his briefcase, sat it on the floor, and leaned back. “Not completely. Nina White wasn’t a random victim. There was some level of planning on Adam’s part. He knew the victim, and if she was targeted, he had to have known how to find her.”
“Perhaps his gripe was with the school,” Annie said. “Maybe he would’ve killed the first person who came along.”
“That’s a possibility,” Hank said. “But it’s certain he planned to kill someone.” He paused. “The ME found a rose in the victim’s mouth. The same roses that grow on the Thorburn property.”
Annie frowned. “A rose?”
“It sounds like planning to me,” Jake said.
Hank looked at Jake. “But not careful planning. He was careless about leaving evidence behind. He didn’t worry about hiding the car or even covering his face.” Hank shook his head slowly. “It’s as if he didn’t care about getting caught.”
“Which tells me his mind is unstable,” Annie said. “His only desire was to kill and never mind the consequences.”
“Sounds more like a psychopath to me,” Jake said.
“Perhaps,” Hank said. “But according to his doctor, he’s never displayed such extreme violence before. In the past, it was usually abnormal behavior, the occasional tantrum, or irrational anger.”
“But the doctor said his behavior has deteriorated lately,” Annie said.
Hank nodded. “And now he’s completely out of control.”
“What’s the significance of the rose?” Jake asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Hank said. “It obviously has some meaning to him.”
“What color was the rose?” Annie asked.
“Red.”
“Love.”
“That’s what King suggested,” Hank said. “Perhaps Adam was secretly in love with Nina White. She was a school guidance counselor, and a role like that tends to be more personal, almost like a therapist. It’s not unusual for someone to fall in love, and even expect a relationship, with someone in that position.”
“A therapist is focused entirely on you and your needs. What can be more gratifying than that?” Jake added.
“Exactly,” Hank said. “And when a person is weak and unstable to start with, they might interpret it as signs of true caring and affection.”
“But this was all years ago,” Annie said.
“He might’ve buried his feelings all these years and they finally surfaced.”
“Has Adam ever had a girlfriend?” Jake asked.
Hank shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Apparently, he has no friends, was bullied at school, and keeps mostly to himself.”
“Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Jake said.
“Add schizophrenia to the mix and that’s exactly what you have,” Hank said.
Jake sat back and scratched his head. “So, if Adam had a thing for Nina White, then she wasn’t a random victim.”
Hank nodded. “That’s the presumption we’re going with. The connection between Adam and Nina White is too solid to suggest otherwise.”
“Then we have to hope she’s his only victim,” Annie said. “And he needs to be tracked down before we find out otherwise.”
Chapter 17
Tuesday, 8:44 p.m.
RAYMOND RONSON pulled his 2004 Volkswagen Beetle up to the rear door of Millfield Elementary School and shut down the engine. After almost thirty years at the same job, a job he never tired of, he treated this place as his home away from home.
The kids he ran into during the day were like family. Sure, they came and went as they grew up and graduated to higher education, but there was always a nice assortment of youngsters who took the time to say hi when they saw him in the halls. And they enjoyed the stories he sometimes told. Short stories—enough to make them smile, but not too long to keep them from their studies.
He was here every school day until the kids went home, and the children were what made this job most enjoyable. He and Eunice hadn’t been able to have any family of their own, and he was thankful for the day he’d found this job. It didn’t pay a lot, but he and his wife had simple tastes and got by nicely.