04 A Killing Touch (10 page)

“I’m so sorry.” Lana had only seen pictures of Lance, but something about this woman who clearly adored him made her doubt he’d cheat. “It’s also possible he was distancing himself for your safety. If he thought he’d found something that could put you in danger if you were too close…”

“He told me he loved me. Then said we needed to take some time away from each other.” Peeling a layer of polish off a nail, Darla latched on to the idea. “Maybe that was why.”

“Did he tell you about the file he had concerns with?”

“Not much. He said it was missing some documentation it should have. The patient was never identified by name or sex.” She squinted, as if she was scanning her memory for the details she wanted to share. “Patient X. I think they were supposed to be a part of a trial study of some sort. Not an FDA thing, but something that should have included a more detailed history of the patient.”

Dr. Grayson’s study.
“Do you know who he would have reported the discrepancy to?”

“His supervisor. I think he might have gone to talk to the doctor who did the study. And he mentioned a herbologist who mixed the medications for the doctor’s study.”

“That’s not regular procedure, is it?”

“Not at his level. Depends on the seriousness of the discrepancy, but sometimes it’s a matter of a new hire or a temp having mixed up paperwork. These things can be cleared up with a simple inquiry.”

The more Darla spoke the more she sounded like she found it crazy. Lana didn’t buy the possibility either. Medical charts were carefully monitored for a reason. “Do you know who the herbologist is? Do you know if he’d have spoken to the doctor directly?”

Darla angled her head to the left, thinking about the question. The more she thought about specifics the less obvious her grief became. It was only a momentary respite but every little bit helped. “Walker. I can’t recall the name. I think it was a woman. As for talking to the doctor, he’d have tried. It wouldn’t be uncommon for the nurses to be the contact, though. They’d be just as familiar or maybe more familiar with the file.”

“That makes sense.” Lana almost let Darla off the hook. Darla had been strong while talking about the file, but if Lana hoped to do the story right she had to ask the hard questions. “On a more personal front, do you know how Lance spent his last hours?”

“He went out with friends. I wasn’t invited, but I followed them.” Tears clouded Darla’s eyes instantly, but again she held herself in check. “I thought he was going to see whoever he was cheating with.”

“And did you see anyone?”

“There was a group of them. I knew everyone but one woman.” Anger pinched Darla’s mouth while tears trickled down her cheeks. “She wouldn’t keep her hands off him, but I did notice him trying to pull away.”

Alarm bells rang between Lana’s ears. Lance had distanced himself from Darla and from the sounds of it he hadn’t trusted the mystery woman.
What had he found? Who?
“This may seem like a strange question, but how was she touching him?”

“Just touching him. Rubbing against him. Trying to hold his hand. Brushing his cheek.”

No mention of holding him by the shoulder.

“I’d had enough of watching them when he got up and headed to the restroom. I started to go confront him, but was intercepted by a drunk guy.” Her breath came in short, sawing hitches. More tears welled and tripped over her eyes. “By the time I got him to leave me alone Lance was back. Five minutes later…”

So the touch that killed him could have happened while he’d been by the restrooms. After finding out where they’d had dinner, Lana thanked Darla for her time and promised to let her know if anything came of the story and left. She wanted to know who had touched Lance. If it had been the woman hanging on him then the doctor was in the clear. But if the woman had stayed with the group or left the bar then the doc could be guilty.

Aware that she would likely yield better results if she was dressed a little sexier, Lana parked before the bar. She changed shoes, pulled her hair from the quick up-twist she’d put it in, and shed the jacket that matched her slacks. The silk tank hugged her body in a criss-cross pattern that enhanced her boobs and shrank her waist. It was one of those seemingly magic tops that fit perfectly, looked great for casual or dressy times, and was comfortable. When she’d found it she’d bought every color available.

Shaking back her hair, she rang the doorbell discreetly hidden by the double entry doors. A few minutes later, a thirty-or-so-year-old man in black slacks and a red button down with the restaurant logo opened the door. He quickly surveyed her, lingering on her waist and breasts for a moment before returning his gaze to hers.

“Can I help you?”

“I know you’re getting ready to open for the lunch rush, but I hope so.” Lana smiled as she introduced herself. After discovering the man was the owner she gave him the brief high points of the story she was working on. When he confirmed that he’d been present the night Lance had died she pressed on. “I was wondering if you have video cameras for security.”

His brow pinched skeptically. “A few, yes.”

“I think Mr. Keys might have had a run-in with someone before his death. I wonder if you would allow me to take a look at the video to see if I could see anything.”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

“I understand.” The restaurant was a new and independently owned one. The challenge would be to get past the owner rather than a corporate policy. “But I can assure you I’m not at all saying it was anyone on your staff. If I find nothing out of the ordinary with Mr. Keys I’ll never mention I was here.”

He hesitated but then showed her to his office off the kitchen. “How can an allergic reaction be more than an unfortunate incident?” he asked as he pulled up the video file from the day in question.

“I hope it is just that.”

The owner said nothing else as he forwarded the video to when Lance entered. Then he stepped back and allowed Lana to sit in his chair. She watched the clip with the sound muted as the group of friends enjoyed their dinner. The woman Darla had mentioned came across as an irritant, but she also managed to always be facing away from the camera.

When Lance left the table the owner stepped forward and changed camera views before Lana could ask. Curiosity clearly drove his mind down the same path as hers. “We don’t have cameras in the restrooms for obvious reasons.”

When Lance exited the restroom there was someone wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up so Lana could only tell they had a small build. He bumped into the other person, who fell to the floor. When Lance bent down to help them up, something he’d do for a woman, they placed a hand on his bicep. His short sleeve had slipped up when he reached out so most of the person’s hand made direct skin-to-skin contact.

This was the moment of the killing touch.

“Did he make it back to his table?” Lana asked.

“Yes.” The owner switched back to the other video file and sped to the point of Lance’s return. The woman was gone. A few minutes later Lance was dead.

“Can we go back to the hallway file? Just before the person he bumped into fell?”

The owner switched the files back and got it to where she wanted. As if a journalist god was smiling down on her a fight broke out in the kitchen commanding the owner’s attention.

Alone, Lana watched the video. The moment the person touched Lance’s arm Lana hit the space bar to pause. The quality wasn’t great, and blunt, slim fingers with short, clipped nails made it tough to determine if the hand belonged to a man or woman. What would narrow things down was the dark spot, maybe a birthmark, on the L part of the hand. It covered the knuckle above the thumb leading to one above the index finger.

Before the owner could return, Lana quickly snapped a picture of the screen with her phone and restarted the video. The image she now had was less than great quality, but clear enough that she could compare the image to a real hand if she met the person.

When the owner returned, she almost told him the FBI might be stopping by for a copy of the footage. She didn’t. Honesty was important to her. She didn’t like to blindside people when she could keep from it, but neither did she want to run the risk, however minimal, that he’d know who was in the hall and warn them. Instead, she thanked him for his time and left.

As the restaurant door closed behind Lana, Liam and Kieralyn pulled up. Satisfaction curled through her. She was on the same track as Aidan’s team, but she’d gotten there faster. And she’d already decided where to head next.

“Lana.” Liam’s voice rolled like Aidan’s, but unlike his twin, Liam spoke with humor and respect. “I keep underestimating how good you are.”

“I keep telling you guys.” Kieralyn rolled her eyes, essentially shrugging off a point she had yet to convince her team of. “You find anything?”

Lana emailed the picture from her phone to Kieralyn and Liam while she caught them up on the video footage and the things she’d learned about Lance without revealing who she’d gotten the information from. Keeping Darla’s identity secret meant she had to omit a few details because some of what Lance had shared with her he wouldn’t have shared with a casual acquaintance or co-worker.

A few minutes later Lana waved as Liam and Kieralyn headed in to speak with the owner themselves and likely request a copy of the tape.

While they chased that lead, Lana was going after a new one.

Chapter Seven

Confident he’d severed the open information sharing between Nigel and Lana, Aidan dropped Ava off at the courthouse for her court date. A quick phone call to Tyler revealed progress in the algorithm. It was written and processing, but so far any similarities between the victims were surface thin and useless. A call to Liam netted him an update on Lana’s movements. She’d learned a lot about Lance and uncovered a possible identifier of his killer.

Then she’d shared the information with his teammates instead of sending it to him. Everyone on the team worked independently, updating each other regularly so there were no surprises and everyone’s back was always covered. Information always flowed up to him and Breck at rapid intervals, but not from Lana.

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel like he could wring frustration out of it.

She wanted to be included in what they learned, yet when she uncovered case-changing news she didn’t send it straight to him. Maybe he didn’t expect her to send him messages while she was talking to people, but she’d held on to the picture until she happened to run into his team. And he had no doubt she’d have held back the information if she hadn’t bumped into Liam and Kieralyn.

Aidan’s right eye pounded painfully.

Lana claimed to want to help. Claimed to be interested in more than just a story. Claimed to not be like every other glory-hungry journalist but she included others only when it suited her. He shouldn’t have believed anything she claimed. Her recent behavior was another reason why. She just wouldn’t back off and she kept secrets.

She’d tracked down Lance, which meant she’d go after information on Natasha Lambert, the woman left in the alley, or Danielle Johnson, the first woman who’d died in assisted living.

He considered the information and Lana again. No. That’s what she would think he’d think she would so. Which meant she would wait on the women. With the confirmation that Lance had uncovered suspicious files from the doctor’s office, she’d go back to Dr. Grayson. Aidan changed directions and headed to the doctor’s offices. Like last time, she’d have to get past him first.

When he got to the doctor’s office building he was reminded that the doctor didn’t have office hours on Thursday or Friday. He would have remembered that if he hadn’t been trying to outthink Lana.

“Damn it.” Aidan fisted his hand. The urge to shoot it into the wall burned like flames licking along his temper. Instead he dug his knuckles into his throbbing temple.

Lana.

She drove him past distraction until he misstepped. In an attempt to predict her he’d forgotten a detail he’d already known. A detail Lana had no doubt known and remembered. A detail that seemed small when there were no small details in a murder investigation.

Exhaling slowly, he relaxed his fist, knuckle by knuckle and finger by finger, until tension no longer stretched from palm to wrist.

Having found out that prior to his death Lance had likely tried to talk with the doctor made Lana’s next logical move the doctor. No office hours meant she’d track him to wherever he spent his off days.

Aidan pulled his cell out and dialed Tyler. He answered on the second ring.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to run Dr. Grayson.” Aidan got to the point as quickly as Tyler and headed back to his car. “I need his home address and any place he spends his days off.”

Tyler’s key tapping sounded clearly through the phone and a moment later he rattled off a few addresses. With as quickly as he’d accessed the information, Lana had to already have it. She had an annoying knack of finding information. She’d shown on the Valentine killer case how much information she could gather through unofficial channels. Even information she shouldn’t be able to find.

Aidan went to the doctor’s home, the greenhouse where he grew some of his own herbs, and the marina where he docked a boat. The home and greenhouse were empty. The boat was docked and empty. According to a neighboring boater, the doctor had left with an attractive woman fifteen minutes earlier.