“True.”
The other line rang, and Nancy picked up from the front office.
“Tell her I said to get well soon. I need her back at work. But I need her 100 percent, so no checking herself out early.”
“Roger that.”
Pete eyed the photo. “Another reason I called…weren’t you a patrol officer in Marsdale at the time Elizabeth Landis was murdered?”
Baronick sounded suspicious. “Yeah.”
“Do you remember a homeless man who overdosed around then? A John Doe?”
“Abby has you trying to ID him now?”
Pete decided against throwing his junior officer under the Baronick bus and remained silent.
To no avail. “My kid sister was barely a teen when that John Doe was found deceased. When she didn’t have her nose in a Nancy Drew or Agatha Christie novel, she was glued to one of the cop shows on TV. Marsdale isn’t like Pittsburgh or even Brunswick. You don’t see panhandlers on the streets every day, so this guy fascinated her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given him food at some point.”
Pete could well imagine that. “I take that as a yes then.”
“What?”
“I asked if you remembered him.”
“Pete, if you’re thinking there’s a link between my sister’s pet case and the Landis murder, just stop. The Marsdale John Doe didn’t have a car or money for any other type of transportation. There’s no way he ended up in Vance Township. Besides, have you forgotten? The murder weapon was found in the trash outside Dustin’s office building. I’m pretty sure John Doe didn’t put it there.”
No transportation? Pete imagined the man in the photo standing at the edge of the road with his thumb raised. But Baronick was right. As was Zoe and Abby. The man was an addict who died of an overdose. “Occam’s Razor,” Pete said under his breath.
But loud enough that Baronick heard him. “Sometimes the simplest answer is the correct one.”
“Yeah. Sorry I bothered you.”
“No problem. Abby will be thrilled to know her favorite boss gives this much credence to her hunches.”
Seconds after he hung up, Nancy appeared in his doorway. “DA Frattini wants to see you in his office in a half hour. Or less.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Pete rubbed the space between his eyes where a dull ache brewed. “I’m down an officer. I can’t just drop everything to be at his beck and call.”
“You tell him that. I’m not gonna.” The bells on the front door jingled, drawing Nancy’s attention, and she disappeared toward them.
Pete stared at his phone. He could call in Kevin or Nate to pull some overtime while he responded to the District Attorney, coming when summoned like a faithful dog. Or…
He punched in Frattini’s number.
When the DA picked up, there was no greeting. “I want you in my office.”
“I’m on duty at the moment. What can I do for you?”
“Where are my witnesses in the Landis case?”
“Detective Baronick and I have been interviewing them.”
“Yes, I know. And Detective Baronick has managed to discredit the best one I had.”
If Cheryl Vranjes was the DA’s best witness, Frattini was screwed. “She was about to convince your jury that she saw a serial killer get out of the victim’s car.”
Frattini’s frustration radiated through the phone. “What about Jenna Haggerty?”
“I spoke with her last week. She’ll testify to Dustin’s lack of fidelity.”
“That’s one. What about Rebecca Weaver?”
Pete had all but forgotten Elizabeth’s boss at the real estate office. “Baronick had her on his list.”
“Baronick is busy with his sister. I want you to track Ms. Weaver down and find out if she remembers anything more than she did nine years ago.”
Pete hoped Frattini had more than a couple of old girlfriends and a murder weapon found in the dumpster near Dustin’s office. The first jury had come back with a guilty verdict, but that was well before anyone knew of the Deserted Lot Killer. “A couple of your key witnesses have passed away recently. What do you think your odds are of getting a conviction this time around?”
“Excellent. If I didn’t believe in my case, I wouldn’t waste the taxpayers’ money on a second trial. Quite honestly, I might even have a stronger case without them.”
Zoe strode into the crime lab ready to hug her old friend, but Gloria spotted her and brought a finger to her lips in the universal shush signal.
“What?” Zoe whispered.
“I put my job on the line for you on this one,” the gray-haired woman said, her voice low. “Don’t broadcast it, okay?”
Zoe understood and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Gloria dismissed the gratitude with a wave. “Like you said. It’s Franklin.” She picked up two folders, placing one on the counter in front of Zoe. Lowering her voice even further, she said, “And because it was Franklin, I did some extra testing.”
Zoe flipped the folder open. She could feel Gloria’s eyes on her as she read.
And read it again.
Zoe met her gaze. “An overdose of insulin? Someone at the hospital injected him with too much insulin?”
Gloria shook her head vehemently. “Look again.” She took the file back, scanned it, and replaced it in front of Zoe with a finger pinned to one line. “Insulin was found in his stomach contents. Like I said, I did some extra testing. I knew he was diabetic, so the low glucose numbers wouldn’t be a surprise. But the way he died in the hospital? I know those people over there. My mom’s a diabetic, and they’ve saved her life more than once, so while I ordinarily wouldn’t check for insulin, in this case, I did.” Gloria’s whisper took on a note of breathless excitement. “Finding it in his stomach contents? It shouldn’t happen.”
Zoe tugged the report from under Gloria’s finger and held it closer, reading the words a third time.
“Insulin taken orally doesn’t work. It would be destroyed by stomach acid.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Zoe asked.
“That’s the point. I can’t.” Grace hesitated. “Unless…”
Zoe waited, watching Grace’s eyes shift in thought.
“I’ve heard
