Thirty-Three
Pete stormed down the hallway to the second interview room with Baronick on his heels.
“Would you care to explain what just happened in there?” the detective demanded.
“I’m not sure.” That was a lie. Pete had a feeling he knew exactly who Loretta had been referring to. But he hoped like hell there was more than one short cute blonde who’d recently had a baby in the vicinity. One who had access to insulin.
One who was not a caregiver for his own father.
He also hoped Loretta was making up this mystery aide to send him on that wild goose chase.
Pete hesitated at the door, resisting the urge to charge in and pin Landis to the wall, demanding answers. He drew a slow breath to calm his nerves and turned the knob.
Landis and an impatient-looking Anthony Imperatore sat at the table. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us,” the attorney said. “I understand you’ve learned that Elizabeth’s killer was in Morgantown shortly before coming to Monongahela County.”
The change in direction stopped Pete in his tracks, his brain racing to catch up. “First, I know of no evidence linking the serial killer to Elizabeth’s murder. And second, how the hell did you find out?”
Imperatore smiled smugly. “You’re not the only one with sources, Chief Adams.”
Pete took the chair across from Dustin, scrolled through his phone to Loretta’s driver’s license photo, and held it up to him. “Tell me about this woman.”
Dustin squinted at the phone. “She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.”
“Was she one of your many extracurricular activities?”
Baronick lowered into the seat beside Pete. “He means one of your lady friends. Mistresses. Paramours.”
Dustin shot a look at the detective. “I know what he meant. No. I’ve never had an affair with that woman. Who is she?”
Dammit. Life—and this case—would’ve been so much easier if Pete could solidify the link between these two and put his new theory out of his mind. “Her name is Loretta Marshall.”
There was no reaction from Dustin.
“She worked in the same building as you during the time your wife was killed.”
Still nothing from Dustin.
Imperatore was another matter. “You have a new suspect?” he asked eagerly.
Pete set his phone down. “Your client appears to have just cleared her.” His mind continued to race, like a blind mouse in a maze, running into walls at every turn. And that wall happened to be a petite blonde who’d had a baby not long ago. A woman he’d cleared of Elizabeth’s murder. A hundred or so eyewitnesses and a stack of credit card receipts confirmed she was in Chicago at the time. Besides, no way could she be mistaken for a tall athletic man, even in the dark and dressed in black.
Baronick nudged him. “Pete? What are you thinking?”
“Jenna.” The name slipped from his lips unbidden.
The detective scowled. “Haggerty?”
Dustin leaned forward. “What about Jenna?”
Pete shook his head. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Focus. He needed to find out about the arsenic Zoe had mentioned. Except a nagging voice kept reminding him of something he’d learned early in his police career.
Poison was frequently the preferred murder weapon of choice…for women.
He shook his head again and looked at Dustin. “Did you do much gardening before your wife died?”
He clearly looked puzzled. “No.”
“Did Elizabeth?”
“No. What’s gardening got to do with anything?”
Pete shifted his attention to the attorney. “Has the forensic pathologist you hired as an expert witness reported back to you?”
Now it was Imperatore’s turn to look confused. “Dr. Davis? No. Why?”
“He found traces of arsenic in the hair samples from Elizabeth’s autopsy. Arsenic is easily obtained at garden centers. It’s in weed killers, pesticides, insecticides, rat poisons…”
From Imperatore’s expression, Pete could tell the attorney’s brain was tracing the same maze as his.
“But Elizabeth was shot,” Dustin said.
“True. The gunshot wound to her head in the parking lot that night is what killed her. But someone attempted to poison her before that.”
The room fell silent. Pete noticed Baronick was keeping his own thoughts to himself and, like Pete, was watching the reactions of the other two men. Imperatore appeared pensive, trying to determine what the new development meant for his client.
Dustin, however, was slowly losing what little color his prison-inmate skin possessed. Wide-eyed, he met and held Pete’s gaze. “Neither Elizabeth nor I did any gardening. We had a service do all our landscaping.”
“Did Jenna have access to your home?”
“No,” Dustin said quickly, but then his eyes shifted.
Pete waited, letting the man think.
“Well, there was one time. She came to see me there right after I’d broken up with her. She claimed she just wanted to talk.” Dustin massaged his forehead as if trying to coax out a memory. Still seeming vexed, he pivoted toward his attorney. “What were you talking about when you mentioned Morgantown?”
“The FBI has determined the Deserted Lot Killer struck in Morgantown a couple of weeks before Elizabeth was shot,” Imperatore said. “It places the serial killer in this area at nearly the same time.”
Instead of appearing victorious, Dustin started shaking his head. “Morgantown.” He looked at Pete. “That’s where the WVU campus is.”
“Yeah?” Pete said.
“It may not mean anything, but that’s where Jenna attended college.”
“Sunshine?” Harry placed a hand on Zoe’s. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a smile. In truth, she felt like crap. The job with its added responsibilities, the wedding coming up in four days, the unending cold of February…
Maybe she was coming down with the flu. It was going around.
She shouldn’t be here spreading germs to Harry and the other vulnerable elderly residents of Golden Oaks.
Even her milkshake tasted a little off.
Harry pressed a cool palm to her forehead. “You are not fine. You’re clammy.”
She tried to blink away the dizziness. Tried to think. Something was wrong. She felt hungry. Weak. As if she hadn’t eaten in days. The chocolate shake had failed to provide its usual sugar buzz.
Why couldn’t she concentrate?
A woman, one of the nurses,
