to run you over?”

Detective Bisset stepped in front of them. “Professor Kraft, can you tell me about the computer program that you and Greg Hammond developed?”

Alice Kraft looked at Katherine, who didn’t look away even for a second. Finally she turned back to Detective Bisset. “Since I’ve been informed that the study is being self-reported to the university review board, I suppose I can answer your questions.”

“That’s very kind.” Katherine didn’t have to read people well to know that Drew Bisset was annoyed by Professor Kraft’s attitude.

“We often sign very strict nondisclosure agreements,” Katherine said. “To protect privacy.”

“This is a police investigation,” Detective Bisset said. “I don’t care about your nondisclosure agreements.”

Alice Kraft cocked her head. “And university IRBs don’t generally care about your criminal investigations. What is this about?”

Oh, Detective Bisset really didn’t like that answer. The corner of his mouth turned up. “Sarah Jordan was part of your study last year. She had a psychotic episode a few months ago. Killed her horse.”

She raised a single sculpted eyebrow. “How awful.”

“Greg Hammond once had a romantic relationship with Sarah Jordan—did you know that when he was assigned to be her supervising grad student in the study?”

“It would have made no difference to him. Greg understands professionalism. We try to keep things as anonymous as possible, but in a school as small as Central Coast, some students knowing each other is inevitable.”

“So it’s pure coincidence that the day Sarah Jordan killed her horse, Greg Hammond was seen at the stables?”

Whoa, what? Katherine and Megan exchanged a wide-eyed stare.

Alice Kraft shrugged. “You’d have to ask Greg about that.”

“What’s your relationship with Greg, Professor Kraft?”

She took a deep breath and considered. “Let’s see, I worked with him on this study of course, and I’ve advised him in a limited capacity during his thesis development. He’s preparing a doctoral thesis on the use of so-called smart devices in neuropsychology.”

Drew took out his phone. “Like smartphones?”

“Wearables more than devices, but that’s the general idea. Developing the app for the study helped him clarify some of his own work. It was an overall positive interaction.”

“Nothing personal?”

She shook her head. “I’m sure there are rumors—there always are about young, attractive professors when they advise students—but none of them are true. I was his professor and advisor only.”

She was too smooth, too practiced. She’d been expecting this series of questions and didn’t hesitate with a single answer. Her entire demeanor was superior. Condescending even.

“What about the data mining?” Katherine said out of the blue.

Her eyes shifted. “Sorry, what?”

Hmmm.

“Data mining in the app.” Katherine stepped forward. “You said you oversaw the app development. There’s a lot in that program that patients wouldn’t be expecting. Location tracking. Access to health data.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

Detective Bisset said, “But I thought you designed the app. You said you did. Are you saying that Greg Hammond snuck all that programming in without your knowing?”

She raised another eyebrow. “You’d have to ask him.”

“And I don’t suppose you know where he is?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I really have no idea.”

Her eyes said it all.

And I really don’t care.

Detective Bisset took another step closer. “Let me be frank, Professor Kraft. I think you’re full of shit. I think you and Greg knew exactly what that app did. Or at least you thought you did. I looked you up. I thought it was interesting that about five months ago, right after the incident with Sarah Jordan, you formed a limited liability corporation called Pacific Tranquility and trademarked the name STIL in all caps for use in a computer application. At least that’s what the trademark application states.” He held up his phone. “An app. You were planning to put out a smartphone app.”

Alice Kraft’s composure hadn’t cracked. “I’m a computer scientist. Is it so hard to believe that I might develop an app on my own?”

“But you weren’t on your own,” Katherine said. “You had plans to take the biofeedback app from the study—after you’d tested it on students and worked all the kinks out—and sell it as your own.”

Megan said, “Everyone wants to cash in on that sweet California wellness lifestyle, right?”

Alice Kraft narrowed her eyes at Megan. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Don’t be sorry, hon! I’m Megan. And I’m the one who’s been cleaning up the messes you’ve been leaving around Moonstone Cove. I stopped two of your experiments from killing people so far. Now would you be a peach and fill me on how many more are out there?” She smiled sweetly. “I’m a planner.”

She tried to step back in the house. “You’re all very misguided, and you can speak to my attorney.”

“What was the plan?” Detective Bisset asked. “Were you always going to sabotage the results for the others so they couldn’t publish? Sweep everything under the rug so you could launch your little company with no questions asked?”

She said nothing.

“Did Greg get in the way?” Detective Bisset asked her. “You didn’t have the control you thought you did, did you? He went… a little off script.”

Alice Kraft shut the door in their faces, but Katherine had seen enough. Detective Bisset had hit every nail on the head.

“She really created an LLC?” Megan asked as they walked to the car. “Doesn’t she know those are public record?”

“Who was going to look?” Detective Bisset asked. “That’s the thing. I think she’s dirty, but she’s not an idiot. Creating this much chaos attracts the wrong kind of attention. No…” He opened his car door. “I think Greg saw an opportunity to get even with a girl he resented. And after that, it was all his game.”

Chapter 30

Drew Bisset sat on the back deck at Katherine and Baxter’s house, drinking a cup of Earl Grey that Baxter had brewed for him. After the two men had bonded over the vulgarity of the coffee drinkers they were forced to spend time with professionally, they joined Katherine, Megan, and Toni on the porch. Megan already had their notes spread out on the table.

“I

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