“I know for a fact that Franklin’s been on the injectable. Even if he had access to some new oral version, why would he swap it out now?”
Gloria didn’t respond.
Didn’t have to. Zoe knew the answer. “He wouldn’t. Not intentionally.”
“And no one on the medical staff would accidentally give him an experimental drug,” Gloria said.
Accidentally being the keyword. Zoe’s mouth went dry. “Franklin was murdered.”
Gloria’s eyes held steady, a glint of anger in them.
Zoe suddenly felt dizzy. She placed the report on top of the folder and white-knuckled the counter to keep the world around her from tilting.
Loretta Marshall, the grieving widow. The pharmaceutical sales rep. Throwing Zoe and Paulette out of Franklin’s funeral home. The crashing in the office as Loretta ransacked the place. Looking for a will that would’ve cut her out of an inheritance. Had she known he planned to change his will? Was that why she’d come back into his life at a time when his health was failing? Was he not dying fast enough to suit her?
“Zoe.” Gloria’s voice carved through her thoughts, jarring her back to the lab. “Are you okay?”
She inhaled, letting oxygen fill her lungs and flood her brain. “Not really.”
Gloria nodded as if she knew what Zoe’d been thinking. She tucked the reports neatly back into the first folder before placing the second one on top. “Since I was already breaking protocol by bumping Franklin’s labs ahead of everyone else’s, I figured what the hell. I ran the other one at the same time.”
“Other one?”
Gloria tapped the folder. “Gina Wagner.”
Gina. The death with no obvious cause. Zoe remained motionless. Except for her racing mind.
Gloria tapped the folder again. “You really want to see this.”
Opening it, Zoe scanned the results. Stopped. And checked the name at the top.
“When I saw Franklin’s results, I tested her too,” Gloria said.
Gina Wagner had extremely low blood glucose levels. Just like Franklin. And just like Franklin, insulin was found in her stomach contents.
Twenty-Eight
Frattini ordered Pete to get back to him after speaking with Rebecca Weaver. Before Pete could react, the line went dead.
The intercom immediately buzzed. “Agent Graley is waiting to meet with you in the conference room.”
Pete launched from his chair and strode from his office.
Graley had her hair pulled back in a tight bun that stretched her face taut but failed to disguise the grim expression on it. “DLK has struck again.”
“What? Where?”
“North central Pennsylvania. Near a little town called Avis.”
“When?”
“Last night. The victim’s body was discovered around two this morning. The good news is we didn’t miss him by much. We have a team already in place. I’m heading there now.”
“Any witnesses? Security cameras?”
“Don’t know yet.” She picked up her handbag as the bells on the front door announced another visitor. “I wanted to update you before I left.” She cast a questioning look at him. “Anything new on your end?”
He thought about mentioning John “Occam’s Razor” Doe but decided against muddying the waters. Unless Doe was a murderous ghost, he wasn’t DLK. “Nope.”
Graley headed for the door. “I’ll keep you posted. With any luck, we’ll soon have our man in custody, and you can ask him in person if he was in Vance Township at the time of the Landis shooting.”
Pete stepped into the hall and watched as she gave a nod to Nancy and the new visitor, Lauren Sanders. The reporter reached out a hand and introduced herself. Graley shook the hand but responded with a terse, “No comment,” before exiting the station.
Lauren started toward him. “Do you have a few minutes to spare?” she asked.
“As if it matters.” He winced. “Sorry. Come on back.”
Lauren followed him to his office and plunked into her usual chair. “Wasn’t that Special Agent Felicia Graley who just left?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there anything new from the FBI?”
Pete wasn’t sure how public the new DLK murder was just yet. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
Lauren’s mouth puckered in annoyance. “In other words, yes, but you won’t tell me.”
“It’s not my case.”
“There’s been another homicide but not locally.”
Damn. She was sharp. “You didn’t hear it from me.”
“Off the record then. What else haven’t I heard from you?”
He chuckled at her tenaciousness. “I’m sure you have sources in the Bureau who can answer your questions.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t.”
“You don’t know anyone in the FBI?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He caught the gist of her words. “Let me guess. You had a source in the Bureau.”
She leaned forward, braced an elbow on his desk, rested her chin in her cupped palm, and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Why don’t you name a place where I might have a source?”
“Avis, Pennsylvania?”
The smile faded. “Afraid not.”
“Then go fish.”
She leaned back. “That’s not how the game is played. You better stick with poker.”
“Why are you here?”
Lauren grew serious. “You know I’ve been working on two stories, right? One about the new trial for Dustin Landis as well as a feature piece on the life of Franklin Marshall.”
“Zoe told me.”
“Other than the fact that Franklin was supposed to testify at the trial, I didn’t expect to find any crossover information between the two stories.”
Pete thought about the coroner’s testimony and personal, as well as professional, theories about Elizabeth’s killer. All of which had nearly sunk the DA’s case the first time around. Had Lauren learned about that?
“Have you met Franklin’s ex-wife?” Lauren asked.
“Loretta? Oh, yeah.” Pete’s train of thought circled back to the reporter’s previous statement. “You found a link between Loretta and the Landis case?”
“Could be. Or it could be mere coincidence.”
No. Not another coincidence. And no more Occam’s Razors for him either. “Tell me.”
“Loretta Marshall is a pharmaceutical sales rep.”
“I know that.”
“Did you know her pharmaceutical company—and she herself—had offices in the same building where Dustin Landis worked at the time his wife was killed?”
Zoe left the
