Every Dark Corner (The Cincinnati Series Book 3)

  His sigh was weary, as if he’d dealt with a passel of toddlers all day long. ‘It wasn’t meant as one. Be careful, ma’am. Both of you.’

  Wendi finger-waved again. ‘Like I said,’ she said as she drove away. ‘Kind of cute.’

  Meredith laughed. ‘Not my type, I’m afraid.’

  Wendi shot her a considering glance. ‘Who is?’

  Adam Kimble. His face came to her mind, unbidden. As it had so many times since she’d met him nine months before. He was attracted to her, too. He hadn’t tried to hide it.

  But Adam was . . . damaged. She’d tried to help him all those months ago, and had been marginally successful, but that help had changed the balance of their relationship before it even had a chance to truly begin. She could never have been his therapist back then anyway – she’d known it the moment she’d laid eyes on him. It had been attraction at first sight, for both of them.

  But she sure as hell could never be his therapist now. She wasn’t even sure she could be his friend. So much water had rushed under that bridge that the bridge was washed away. ‘Right now, nobody.’

  ‘You’re lying. I can always tell. But you’ll tell me eventually. You always do.’

  Not this time, Meredith thought sadly. It hurt too much to think about him – so close, yet so unattainable. There was no way she’d be able to dish the way Wendi wanted her to. The man had such a good heart and it was being shredded at this very moment. Zimmerman had other people he could have sent to view those photographs. He shouldn’t have sent Adam. But tackling the task had been Adam’s decision and he’d made it.

  Meredith had meant what she’d said when she’d offered him her aid. She’d help him. And then she’d cry herself to sleep, just like she’d done before.

  She started when Wendi reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘If you never tell me,’ Wendi whispered, ‘it’s okay. I’ll still come to your house and we can watch movies and drink chocolate martinis.’

  Meredith’s exhale was shaky. ‘It’s a date.’

  Eight

  Cincinnati, Ohio,

  Thursday 13 August, 3.20 P.M.

  Kate found Deacon checking his email as he waited for her outside the morgue so they could meet with the coroner about her autopsy of Alice Newman’s body. ‘Hey,’ he said, barely looking up. ‘Did Dani get to Davenport’s room okay?’

  ‘She did. Thank you for helping to work that out.’

  He shrugged. ‘It was mostly Zimmerman and Troy. Adam found the place – I used it when we needed a safe house for Faith, so I know the layout. We’ll be able to protect him there until he’s back on his feet.’

  ‘Which will probably be sooner than he should be, but that would be true for any of us. What are you looking at that has you so absorbed?’

  He glanced up. ‘The list of people who visited Alice while she was in custody. It’s a fairly long list. A lot of reporters. A few lawyers. She went through lawyers like water because none of them would agree to trying to get her immunity.’

  ‘We need to check them, though. Send me the list and we’ll split it up after we’re done.’

  Deacon tapped a few buttons on his phone, then nodded. ‘It’s sent. It’s the names from the sign-in sheet, plus copies of each visitor’s ID.’

  Kate opened the file as soon as it dropped into her inbox and let it begin its download. It was slow going as the morgue’s Wi-Fi signal was weak. ‘Do you know what the ME has for us?’

  ‘No. She’d already taken the body to the morgue by the time I got to the jail.’

  ‘Really? Does she normally do that before you’ve examined the scene?’

  ‘No, and I’m dying to find out why.’

  ‘No puns,’ Kate groaned, biting back a smile. ‘Please.’

  ‘But you smiled. Admit it. Let’s go find out what’s going on.’

  They put on masks, gloves, and cover-ups, then Kate sucked in one last breath of fresh air before following Deacon through the morgue’s main door.

  ‘Carrie—’ Deacon stumbled to a stop, nearly causing Kate to plow him over.

  ‘What the hell, D?’ Kate muttered, regaining her balance without actually touching anything. Because touching stuff in a morgue was just . . . nasty. Not that she’d ever admit that out loud, of course.

  She looked around Deacon and saw what had stopped him short. A tall woman, gowned head to toe in white, was standing by the morgue refrigerator, leaning over a victim’s body as it lay on a tray that had been partially pulled out. From this angle, it looked like the woman’s face was buried in the corpse’s neck.

  ‘Carrie?’ Deacon said uncertainly, and the woman straightened.

  She wore goggles and a mask, but she’d pulled the mask just below her nose, the white of the mask stark against her dark skin. She pulled it all the way down and motioned them over. ‘Deacon. I’m glad you’re finally here.’ She tilted her head and studied Kate. ‘I’m Dr Washington. You must be Agent Coppola.’

  ‘I am. Um, not to be rude or anything, but what were you doing?’

  Washington’s eyebrows arched. ‘Not to be rude or anything,’ she said dryly.

  Deacon shook his head. ‘Nah, Kate’s right. It was damn creepy, Carrie, and I don’t freak easily. I thought you’d have blood all over your mask when you straightened up.’

  Carrie grinned abruptly. ‘Now that would be a funny prank.’ She sobered just as abruptly. ‘But no. So not gonna happen.’ She motioned them over. ‘This is Alice.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ Deacon muttered.

  Kate grimaced. ‘Wow.’ She hadn’t recognized the body. ‘She’s not so pretty anymore, is she?’ Alice, who’d been very pretty at the time of her arrest, was now battered and bruised, her skin a rosy, almost shiny red. She had a black eye that covered half her face, her upper lip was split, and there was a deep cut in her cheek. ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Well,’ Carrie said, ‘quite a few things, actually. It seems that she had a little altercation in the exercise yard yesterday.’

  ‘I thought she was separated from the gen pop,’ Kate said, frowning.

  ‘At meals,’ Deacon said. ‘The warden said that she took her meals alone, but that she was permitted time in the exercise yard with a few of the minimum security prisoners. The assault happened yesterday early evening. The woman who hit her claimed that Alice had pushed her and grabbed her breasts, and several prisoners backed up her story. They’d surrounded Alice, though, so the cameras didn’t get a good view of what really happened. The woman has since been separated from her cell block. But the report made it sound like Alice had a few bruises. Nothing like this. Not that I’m feeling sorry for her or anything.’

  Kate agreed. ‘That goes without saying.’

  ‘Alice spent yesterday evening in the infirmary,’ Carrie said. ‘Apparently she had severe nausea and diarrhea on top of the cuts and bruises.’

  Deacon made a face. ‘Lovely. But if anyone had to get diarrhea, I’m glad it was her.’

  ‘Alice was a lawyer with a snooty, better-than-you attitude,’ Kate said. ‘Based on the one time I interviewed her, the breast grabbing doesn’t sound very likely.’

  ‘What’s more likely,’ Carrie said, ‘was that the assault was a set-up because somebody wanted Alice in the prison infirmary last night. She was exposed to some kind of toxin. I won’t know exactly when and what until we finish running a battery of tests.’

  ‘Wait.’ Deacon frowned. ‘I thought she was poisoned through her breakfast.’

  ‘She was,’ Carrie said. ‘She was poisoned twice, with different toxins.’

  Kate and Deacon shared a look of foreboding. ‘By the same person?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Which two toxins?’ Deacon asked at the same time.

  ‘Whether it was the same person is impossible to sa
y at this point because the mode of delivery was different. The first exposure was through lacerations on her skin.’ Carrie pulled the tray all the way out and pointed to cuts on Alice’s arms and face, then drew the sheet from Alice’s feet to above her knees to show more cuts on her thighs and the back of her calves.

  ‘All the cuts look shallow,’ Kate said.

  ‘They are. Deep enough to draw blood, but not enough to need stitches. Look at the skin around them.’

  Deacon shook his head. ‘The skin is red. What am I looking for?’

  ‘A rash beneath the red. The rash is red too, so it makes it harder to see.’ She handed Deacon an 8x10 photograph. ‘That’s this laceration, here on the left thigh. I adjusted the color contrast so that the rash showed up better.’

  Kate looked over Deacon’s shoulder and barely made out a rash pattern beneath the darker red. ‘I see it, but it’s faint.’ She glanced up at the ME. They’d said she was good and they’d been right. ‘You have a sharp eye.’

  Carrie gave her a nod of appreciation. ‘I also saw her about ninety minutes after she died. The overall redness of her skin was a little lighter then. I’m pretty sure that the rash is a result of the first exposure. The red skin came with the second exposure – ingested with her breakfast this morning – which was probably the fatal one.’

  Kate ran her mind through the facts – red skin, death within an hour . . . the doctor bending over the victim, sniffing. ‘Cyanide. You were sniffing her for the almond smell?’

  Another nod, this one accompanied by a slight smile. ‘Yes, but either I can’t smell it or her body didn’t produce it. There isn’t always an almond smell. But her blood tested positive for cyanide, so that’s a definitive cause of death.’

  ‘Why were you smelling her, then?’ Deacon asked. ‘You already had the test results.’

  Carrie shrugged. ‘I was curious. I’ve never had a victim of cyanide poisoning before. It’s really, really rare. Less than ten cases a year, nationally. This is going to get some press.’

  ‘So you’re going to be a celebrity ME,’ Deacon said dryly. ‘Will you still have time for us lowly peasants?’

  Her lips twitched. ‘For you, Agent Novak? Always.’ She got back to business, pointing to the rash that ringed the laceration on Alice’s leg. ‘This is not cyanide. I’m running a series of tests but I won’t know anything with certainty until I open her up.’

  ‘But you’re sure that the toxin was introduced through the wounds?’ Kate asked.

  Carrie’s brows lifted. ‘What’s your question, Agent Coppola?’

  ‘Well . . . how exactly was it introduced? I mean, Alice was a vicious, cold-hearted bitch, capable of torturing someone with a smile on her face. I can’t see her just sitting there while poison was slathered all over her open cuts.’

  Carrie’s smile was grimly satisfied. ‘I can see that in my mind. It’s a good image.’ Her glance swept over the other drawers. ‘I have autopsied too many bodies this past week, most of which can be traced back to this . . . creature. I have no sympathy for her whatsoever. I will treat her body with respect and I’ll search for the cause of death with the zeal that I have for every other body that comes through my morgue. But I’d be dishonest if I denied that I wish she’d suffered more. Had the cyanide not been administered, I think she would have. Unfortunately, her death was too quick.’

  ‘Amen,’ Deacon muttered.

  ‘Preaching to the choir,’ Kate said. ‘But back to the poison – if it wasn’t slathered on, then how did it get into her wounds? Was it introduced by someone in the exercise yard? Or via contaminated medical instruments once she got to the infirmary? Combined with a salve so that it looked like medicine? Sprinkled on the bandages?’

  ‘Good questions,’ Carrie said. ‘I think it was at the infirmary, because they dressed her wounds. If it had been introduced in the exercise yard, it would have been washed off the skin when they cleaned her up, and if the damage had already been done, it would have been noted.’ She hesitated. ‘Plus, she was ill that night and into the morning. If I’d done this, I’d want to be sure she didn’t attract any attention moaning in her cell. I’d want to keep her close and watch.’

  ‘Somebody might check her out,’ Deacon said. ‘Somebody other than whoever did it.’

  Carrie nodded. ‘Exactly. Alice was still sick when she got back to her cell. I was actually surprised she ate anything this morning based on the records. I’ll do an analysis of her stomach contents to tell which thing had the cyanide in it. Anyway, I got a roster of all the staff on duty in the infirmary for the time Alice was there and the shifts before and after. This took planning, especially if the ointments or bandages were poisoned.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Deacon said and blew out a breath. ‘We’ll question the infirmary staff and any other inmates who were patients at the time. The woman who beat her up in the exercise yard was given very specific directions as to how badly to hurt her. The wounds are too uniform in their depth to be random strikes. We need to know if she was in on the planning, or just a tool.’

  Kate pulled up the email he’d sent her with the list of people who’d visited Alice. ‘I’m wondering if Alice was being threatened by anyone. I can’t see her keeping something like that to herself. She would have told her lawyer at least.’ She scanned the list. ‘Here. She spoke with her attorney’s assistant yesterday. Keisha Findlay.’

  ‘Then we move Findlay to the top of our list,’ Deacon said. ‘I’d like to know what Alice said before we interview anyone else.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I agree. Dr Washington, when do you expect to have the results of that battery of tests you mentioned – the one that will tell you what the first poison was?’

  Carrie looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Some of the tests may be finished. I sent them through the gas chromatograph, in order of my best guess. Let me go check. I’ll be right b—’

  The doors opened behind them and an assistant wheeled in another gurney bearing a sheet-covered body. ‘Dr Washington, the OD case is prepared. Where do you want her?’

  Carrie sighed. ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Kate and Deacon. ‘Put her in the freezer, Toby. The poisoning is my priority. One of us will get to the OD as soon as possible.’ She disappeared into the office for a half-minute, returning as the assistant was sliding the new body onto the drawer tray next to Alice. Setting the printouts in her hand aside for a moment, Carrie gently lifted the sheet to look at the face of the deceased, a young African-American woman. The expression on the ME’s face was one of sorrow and regret, quite unlike the look of contempt she’d worn for Alice.

  Carrie looked up to see Kate watching her and lowered the sheet as gently as she’d lifted it. ‘She was a grad student with her whole life ahead of her. I hate to see these kids throwing their lives away for a damn high, especially kids who’ve pulled themselves out of the projects like this girl did. There are so few black women in academia, and she wanted to be a professor. Now we’re one fewer.’

  Kate wasn’t sure what to say, so she asked a question, keeping her voice respectful. ‘Do you know the history of all the deceased?’

  Carrie shook her head sadly as she closed the drawer. ‘No. I heard about this one on the news this morning. Her body was found at King’s College on the edge of the campus.’ She picked up the printouts she’d set aside and rifled through them. ‘I was right.’ She looked up. ‘Deacon?’

  Deacon had stepped closer to the swinging doors, but quickly rejoined them. ‘I was downloading my mail. It’s slow down here.’

  ‘It’s a dead zone,’ Carrie quipped, and both Kate and Deacon groaned. ‘Oh, come on,’ Carrie said with a smile. ‘Don’t tell me you never thought it yourselves.’

  ‘I can honestly say I didn’t,’ Kate said. ‘What were you right about?’

  Carrie sobered. ‘The first poison Alice was exposed to was r
icin.’

  Kate and Deacon stared at each other. ‘Ricin?’ Deacon asked. ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘Nope. The symptoms pointed to something in that family, and we have been getting an increasing number of deaths by either ricin or a variant. Thank you, Breaking Bad,’ she added sarcastically. ‘Walter White made a couple of batches and all of a sudden recipes for ricin are popping up all over the Internet. So now it’s one of the tests I run when I see this rash combined with gastrointestinal distress prior to death.’

  ‘Ricin,’ Deacon muttered. ‘I’m thinking KGB umbrellas with secret dosing needles.’

  ‘But,’ Kate said, ‘if my memory is accurate, ricin would have taken a while to kill her.’

  ‘Thirty-six hours to a few days,’ Carrie confirmed.

  ‘Then why fool with the cyanide?’ Kate frowned. ‘It was either two different perps or . . . maybe they were nervous that she hadn’t gotten enough in her system and they finished the job?’

  ‘Sounds like you two are going to be busy finding out,’ Carrie said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Kate said grimly. ‘Thank you, Dr Washington. It was nice to meet you.’

  ‘Next time just call me Carrie, how’s that?’

  ‘If you’ll call me Kate.’ She shook the woman’s hand, then she and Deacon left the morgue, stopping in the hallway to strip off the paper gowns and masks. ‘What first?’

  ‘I’ll take the infirmary staff,’ Deacon said. ‘You take the visitor list, starting with the lawyer’s assistant, then, when we’ve got a little more information, we’ll both interview the woman who threw the punches. We call each other when either of us gets something.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Following him to the elevator, Kate pulled up the form that the lawyer’s assistant had filled out at the desk of the jail. Keisha Findlay worked for Heath, Gill, and Schwartz, Attorneys at Law. Their offices were downtown, so it wouldn’t take too long to get there. She scrolled down to the copy of the woman’s photo ID.