The note felt unusually heavy, and as she unfolded it, a key fell into her palm. Although she didn’t have one, Erica knew that this was a key to a safe deposit box. Stenciled on it was the number “645.” On the note, only three words were written: First Texas Bank.
No one would hide a key to a safe deposit box in the library. It was absurd. Yet here it was. The only reason would be because its owner had to hide it quickly. She immediately regretted doubting Kevin, afraid now that men really were after him — maybe her too. She was shaking as she walked back toward the stairway.
“Miss!” said a voice from behind her.
She whirled to see a tall, gaunt man in jeans standing at the end of the stack. Her heart raced.
“If you are going to use our facilities,” he said, pointing at the books she had left on the floor, “the least you can do is clean up after yourself.”
Franco felt the vibration signal on the walkie-talkie. He retreated farther behind the pillar from which he had been watching the front entrance of the library and pulled the walkie-talkie from his pocket.
While keeping an eye on the entrance, he said, “This is Franco. Go ahead.”
“It’s Wilson. I just got an update from Hornung. We’ve got more info on the woman.” At the briefing this morning, they’d only had the woman’s picture, and they thought Hamilton would be found shortly. But later they’d found out that Hamilton had gotten away from Lobec and Bern. Franco didn’t know many of the details. The last he’d heard was that they were at a stakeout, ready to use their Barnett and Kaplan identities to try and capture him.
“Her name’s Erica Jensen,” Wilson continued. “She’s a fourth-year med student at South Texas and is probably dating Hamilton.”
“So it’s possible she’s here to study in the library.”
“Correct. Remember. Just wait outside, and don’t let her get out of your sight once you make a positive ID. We already lost our boy once today. She’s probably the best way to find him.”
“Acknowledged.”
Franco replaced the walkie-talkie. Just as he did so, the front door of the library opened, and a woman burst through, out of breath. She was dark-haired, approximately five foot eight, with bright green, almond-shaped eyes that darted from side to side but did not see him behind the pillar. The T-shirt and shorts she wore conformed well to her lithe, athletic body, and her high cheekbones and delicate jawline enhanced an already pretty face. The overall effect was a girl-next-door attractiveness that made her easily identifiable from this distance.
Franco looked at the photo in his hand and smiled. He now had a positive. It was Erica Jensen.
Erica’s eyes darted around as she hurried back towards her car. The man that had scared her minutes before had only been one of the librarians, but she was still worried about the prospects of meeting one of Kevin’s policemen. Her right hand clutched her purse and the safe deposit box key inside it, and her left was wrapped tightly around the mace canister.
Footsteps rushed at her from behind. She turned, hoping it was only a student late for an appointment. Her breathing stopped when she saw a handsome young man wearing a suit. He had his hand raised. She couldn’t see what he was holding, but he started to call to her.
“Miss Jensen! I need to speak with you!”
She didn’t recognize him and had no idea how he knew who she was. She almost turned to run when she realized that he was flashing a badge towards her.
He came to a stop in front of her. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his face.
“Miss Jensen, my name is Detective Watson with the HPD. It’s urgent that I speak with you regarding Kevin Hamilton.”
After Kevin’s story about the police detectives, she didn’t know what to think. The badge looked authentic, but then she had never seen a real badge before. If he wasn’t a policeman, he was very convincing.
Nervously, she looked around again. She could see only two other people. Both were far away and moving out of the quad.
“What do you want?” she said. She could hear the nervousness in her voice, but she couldn’t do much about it.
“Actually, this concerns both of you. I think it would be better if we discussed it at the station.” He motioned in a direction away from her car. She didn’t move.
“First, I want to know what this is about.”
“It’s in connection with Dr. Michael Ward’s death last night. We have reason to believe Mr. Hamilton might have some information that would be helpful in the case.”
“Why?” Erica asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss the specifics of the case. Have you seen Mr. Hamilton this morning?”
She wasn’t going to commit herself just yet. “No, I just talked to him a little over the phone around 9:30. He said a Detective Robley was going to call him. Do you know him?”
“Robley? The name doesn’t sound familiar. But I’m with the arson squad, investigating Dr. Ward’s death as a possible arson. Detective Robley is probably in another division. Do you know why Mr. Hamilton would call him?”
The fact that he didn’t know Robley might not mean anything, but she was still wary. “He said it had something to do with Dr. Ward, but I don’t know what.”
“Then I’m sure you can understand why I have to speak with him. I’m going to have to ask you to come with me. I’d like you to help me locate Mr. Hamilton. As I said, it’s very urgent.” Again, he motioned toward the west end of the campus.
She started to slowly walk in that direction with Detective Watson beside her. She decided she had to be convinced.
“Detective Watson, there was one other thing that might help. Kevin said he was talking to two police officers. I can’t quite remember their names. I think one was Barnett. You might try one of them. He might even be with them.”
Watson seemed to think for a second. Then he said, “You must be talking about Detectives Barnett and Kaplan. We could try contacting them when…”
Erica whipped her hand up and blasted him in the eyes with the mace. He sank to his knees, his hands went to his face, and he began screaming. As she ran, she could hear him yelling after her.
“Goddam bitch!”
No one was in the quad anymore. She bolted for the nearest building, passing a sign that said “Cooper Physics Building.” She pulled furiously on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. She ran down to the next door. This one was wedged open with a piece of wood. She yanked it open, pausing only to look back at the police impersonator, who was now on his feet just forty yards behind her.
The literature that came with the mace said a full-grown man would be incapacitated for twenty minutes. Either the claims were exaggerated or her aim must have been off and she didn’t spray the chemical right in his face.
She kicked the wedge out and ran down the hallway. Turning, she was horrified to see that, instead of slamming shut, the door had hydraulic hinges. It was closing, but excruciatingly slowly.
Ahead, she saw a stairway and decided to take it. Over her footsteps echoing on the stone floor, she could hear Watson slam the door open, sputtering as he did so. It sounded like he tripped and fell as he crossed the door’s threshold, but she didn’t dare turn to look. She took the steps two at a time.
The second floor hallway was dark, but some sunlight filtered through the office transoms. The stairway was about midway between the ends of the hall and topped out on this floor. She randomly chose left and started twisting knobs in an effort to find an unlocked door.
After trying three doors unsuccessfully, she came to the last room in the hall, whose massive metal door was equipped with a lever instead of a knob. She pushed down on it and the latch clicked. Someone had left it unlocked. She pushed in and slammed the door behind her. She scrabbled for the deadbolt switch and then realized it needed a key to lock from this side as well. Two wooden wedges were on the floor, probably used to prop the door open. She jammed them under the door. They’d hold for a minute, but not against sustained pounding.
Looking around the room, she now knew why it had a door different from the others on the floor. Surrounding
