“That’s the worst thing about it,” Annie said, then asked, “Has Hank shown up yet?”
“He went to see Ronson’s wife out by Flamingo Pond. He should be here soon.”
Annie was unaware of Raymond Ronson’s domestic situation. She wasn’t surprised to hear of his wife, but it saddened her. She would make a point of visiting the woman soon. A friendly word always went a long way in a heartbreaking situation.
“I traced the email back to a computer in the main office of the school,” Callaway said. “Lots of people had access to it, and according to forensics, there’re a lot of fingerprints.”
“Any from Adam Thorburn?” Annie asked.
Callaway shook his head. “Forensics lifted Adam’s prints from his mother’s house, so we have something to compare them to, but no match.”
“Any word yet if they found his prints anywhere else? Like on doorknobs or on the murder weapon?”
“Forensics is still processing the scene, and we don’t have anything back from that end of things. Shouldn’t be much longer. I guess Hank’ll be the first to know.” He cocked his head toward the front door. “Speak of the devil.”
Annie followed Callaway’s gaze. Hank was stopped at the front desk, talking to Jake. They looked her way and Hank gave a quick wave.
“Thanks, Callaway. I’ll talk to you later,” Annie said. She went to Hank’s desk and sat in a guest chair. Jake and Hank came over and took seats.
“I left King at the scene,” Hank said. “He’s talking to some of the staff, but I don’t expect much from them.” He pulled his chair in and reached into his drawer for a pad of blank police reports. “Let’s get to it, shall we? It’s just for the record. You’ve done it before and I’m sure you’ll do it again.”
They spent the next few minutes filling out an official report outlining the details of how they came to visit the school that morning and the events surrounding their discovery of Raymond Ronson’s body.
When Annie finished, she signed the report and handed it to Hank. “Tell me about Raymond Ronson’s wife,” she said, sitting back.
Hank sighed, tucked the paper into a folder, and leaned back. “Eunice Ronson. She seems like a sweet old woman. Madly in love with her husband and completely torn up about it. Understandable, of course.”
“And she’s alone now?”
“Says she has a sister close by.”
Annie was relieved to hear the woman had family, but decided she would visit Eunice anyway.
Jake spoke up. “Hank, was there anything at the scene that might lead you to believe the killer was anyone other than Adam Thorburn?”
“I don’t have much back yet, but from what I saw, it all points to Thorburn. There were footprints in the blood, tracked into the school. Probably on his way to the computer. Size eleven shoes. Same as Thorburn’s.”
“And the rose in the victim’s mouth,” Jake said. “That sets a pattern.”
Hank nodded. “That’s the most telling fact. It’s like a signature. Serial killers often leave a message of some kind.” He shook his head and frowned. “I hope that’s not what we’re dealing with here.”
“It’s starting to fit the pattern,” Annie said.
“I hope you’re wrong.”
“So do I.” Annie leaned forward. “Callaway said Adam’s prints weren’t on the computer the email was sent from.”
“Probably wore gloves,” Jake put in.
Annie looked at Jake. “If he did, he probably would have had to take them with him when he ran. I’m not sure that would be on his mind at the time, and it’s doubtful he would’ve picked them up later.”
“He might’ve pulled his sleeve over his hand,” Hank said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“It strikes me as unusual both murders took place at a school,” Jake said. “And both were schools Adam attended.”
“And he would’ve known of Raymond Ronson,” Hank added. “Ronson has been the janitor there for the last thirty years.”
“But what’s the significance of the schools?”
“We know he had a hard time at school,” Hank said. “He was bullied and misunderstood. And he dropped out after two years of high school.”
“If he was bullied, why not go after the bullies?” Annie asked. “Why the guidance counselor and the janitor?”
“I don’t know,” Hank said, shaking his head. “After all these years, I still don’t understand a killer’s mind. I only know enough to expect the unexpected.”
“Wherever he is,” Jake said, “he came out of hiding long enough to kill and then hid again.”
“And that’s why I would love to be able to forecast his next move, but he’s unpredictable. We have officers watching both schools round the clock in case he shows again. And cops are on the lookout city wide.”
“Don’t forget he has a high IQ, so he’s intelligent,” Jake said. “He’ll have a good idea where you’re watching for him.”
“True, but serial killers are often impulsive and in need of instant gratification. That can make them careless.”
Annie’s cell phone rang and she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Teddy White,” she said, looking at Hank. “Do we have anything new I can tell him?”
Hank shrugged.
Jake shook his head.
Annie took a breath and answered the phone.
“Mrs. Lincoln,” the caller’s voice came from the phone. “It’s Teddy White. Have you found Adam Thorburn yet?”
Annie thought quickly. “We’ve been following a few leads,” she said. “Unfortunately, we haven’t tracked him down yet, but we’re giving it our full attention.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the line, then, “The police have nothing for me either.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know if we have anything positive to report,” Annie said.
“Thank you. I’ll be waiting.”
Annie hung up and made a wry face. “I guess if he’s paying us to investigate, he deserves to know what we’re up to, but it’s hard to continually tell him we have nothing for him.”
Hank chuckled. “Better you than me.”
Jake spoke up. “Hank, I have plans to visit Dr. Zalora a little later. He said he could squeeze a few minutes off his lunch break. Anything I should know?”
“You won’t get much more than an expression of concern from him. He’s pretty tight-lipped. Doctor-patient confidentially and all that.”
“I’ll give him a shot anyway,” Jake said. “You never know. I’m willing to try anything even remotely helpful if it leads to finding Thorburn.”
“I’m anxious to see the forensics report,” Hank said. “But I assume if they found anything earth-shattering they would’ve let me know.” He opened a folder on his desk and glanced at a sheet of paper. “I was able to get a list of Adam’s classmates from the school. It might be a long shot, but I’m hoping one of them might have an idea where Adam’s hiding out.” He looked at his watch. “As soon as King gets here I want to get right on it. I don’t have time to sit around.”
“And we have things to do as well,” Annie said, looking at Jake.
Jake stood. “We’ll let you know if we find any interesting tidbits, Hank.”
Hank gave a quick wave. “See you later, guys.”
Annie stood and followed Jake from the precinct and out to the Firebird. They got in and she turned to Jake. “If Adam Thorburn keeps to his schedule, he’s going to kill someone again this evening.”
“Then we need to get on his tail,” Jake said, starting the vehicle. “If he knows we’re coming, he might be afraid to make a move.”
“I hope you’re right,” Annie said.
Chapter 23
Wednesday, 12:16 p.m.
ADAM THORBURN loved the swamp and the solitude it brought, but he missed the house he grew up in. He longed for his regular routine and peace of mind. But mostly, he missed his one true source of quiet and tranquility—the roses that grew along the back of the house—his roses, still surviving without his loving care.