Allison Brennan - Cutting Edge

Nora wasn’t going to get into an argument with Sanger in front of his deputies with college students coming and going. They’d sealed off the third floor of the dorm, but the other floors were accessible to residents; soon, they’d release the third floor as well.

Something bothered Nora about the letter, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Had they left evidence of their crimes, but the police just hadn’t yet found it? Or had one of them felt guilty? Perhaps it was a murder-suicide. The letter was written in feminine script, difficult but not impossible for a man to forge. Pills and other poisons were commonly chosen by female suicide victims, while men preferred firearms. Ironically, perhaps, the choice of weapons for female killers was poison as well. Could Anya have killed her partners, then herself?

“Did you find any empty pill bottles, a knife? We have two victims, Jonah Payne and Russell Larkin. Neither fit with the M.O. of this group.”

“What M.O.?” Sanger said. “We know the same people were involved with the four arson fires-your sister proved it, right? Same accelerant, same bomb, same type of target. We’ve matched the spray paint. They escalated-they often do. Serial arsonists want bigger, more violent fires.”

“But serial arsonists set fires to watch the fire and achieve sexual satisfaction. Anarchists set fires to make a political statement and damage the offending businesses economically.”

“Why are you so antagonistic?” Sanger asked. “You should be happy that the case is solved.”

“Solved? It’s far from solved.”

“What the hell do you mean? We have three dead college students who have claimed responsibility, or at least have provided good solid evidence of responsibility. It’ll take a few days to match up, but I’ll bet it matches the evidence we found at the crime scenes. They fit the profile that you yourself gave me: early-to-mid-twenties, college-educated, Caucasian, known environmental activists.”

What he said was true, but, “That was before someone was killed. If Dr. Payne had died in an accident, then yes, I could buy this. But he was tortured and murdered, his body moved from his vacation house to his business. His colleague Larkin had his throat slit while he sat in his car behind a deserted building. These are not the acts of traditional anarchists.”

“Maybe they’re just plumb crazy.”

Nora remembered her conversations with Megan Kincaid and then Hans Vigo earlier this morning. That the manner in which Jonah Payne was killed was the work of a psychopath. “Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly.

But she wasn’t done, not by a long shot. She needed to be one hundred percent sure that the three suicides were solely responsible for the murders and the arsons. She wasn’t closing the case anytime soon.

“Sheriff, I’m going to talk to Professor Cole. He knew all three students, he may have some insight or information. Would you like to join me?”

“I was getting ready to talk to him as well. I’ll give you a ride.”

She frowned. “A ride? His office is just on the other side of campus.”

“As he’s been so reluctant to comply with this investigation, I had him taken into custody. He’s at the county jail.”

Duke and Sean followed Nora back outside to the car. “You did good, Sean,” Duke said.

Sean seemed surprised by the praise, and Nora wondered if Duke was that rare with compliments.

“Thanks,” the young man answered.

Nora grabbed her briefcase from the backseat of Duke’s car. “I just emailed Pete and asked him to stick with the evidence, I want everything to come through my office, but I didn’t want to say that to Sheriff Sanger. I’m hoping Pete can convince him that we have more resources to quickly process it.” She pulled out a notepad and copied the names and stats of the three suicide victims, then handed it to Duke. “Would you mind running backgrounds on these three? I sent the information to my office, but it’s getting late and I don’t think I’ll get answers tonight. And”-She glanced from Sean to Duke. -“your backgrounders on Butcher-Payne staff were extensive.”

“The Butcher-Payne employees agreed when they applied to provide us with Social Security numbers and other vital statistics. With those, I was able to go deeper.”

“What I want is basic, but I’m looking for any further connection between these three and Leif Cole, and anyone at Butcher-Payne. Specifically look at Payne himself and his son, Trevor.”

Duke was stunned. “Why Trevor? You don’t think he’s-”

She shook her head and interrupted, “Of course not, but he’s twenty and college age, even though he’s in the military. Maybe one of these kids went to high school with him. Maybe they played on the same Little League team. I don’t know, but it’s just bugging the hell out of me that these kids killed themselves when they didn’t have a good reason. We weren’t investigating them!”

“But you were investigating Cole,” Duke pointed out. “Maybe Anya Ballard was trying to protect him.”

“I wasn’t officially investigating Cole,” Nora corrected. “I just suspected that he knew more than he was saying.”

“Sounds like splitting hairs to me.”

“I pushed him, Duke. I didn’t let him off. But I didn’t have one teeny shred of evidence to tie him to any of the arsons. And the only thing that’s tying him to Butcher-Payne is his academic tit-for-tat exchanges with Dr. Payne.”

“People have killed for less,” Duke said. “And you have one more connection. His relationship with Anya Ballard.”

Nora rubbed her eyes. Duke tapped her chin up. “Hey, don’t fall asleep during the interrogation.”

“I’m not tired. I’m frustrated. This seems too convenient.”

Sean said bluntly, “I don’t think Anya killed herself.”

Nora turned to the younger Rogan. “Why?”

“Sean,” Duke said, “the evidence seems clear. It should be relatively easy to match the materials found in her room with the evidence at the crime scenes.”

“I didn’t say Anya wasn’t an arsonist. I don’t know about that.” He frowned and glanced back toward the dormitory still rife with police activity. “I just don’t think Anya could slit anyone’s throat. She didn’t seem violent.”

“Sometimes,” Duke said, “people are not who they appear to be.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” Sean said. “I’m giving you my opinion based on spending an hour with her yesterday. Did you meet her?”

Duke was surprised at Sean’s retort. “I didn’t mean to talk down to you. I was stating a fact.” Maybe he stated the obvious too often with Sean. He didn’t realize it bothered his brother.

Nora said, “I don’t think we can make a determination one way or the other regarding who killed Larkin or whether those three kids killed themselves or-” She cut herself off.

“Or what?”

“Or they were murdered.”

She turned to Sean again. “I want your honest opinion, Sean. When you saw Anya last night and heard the third voice, how certain are you that it was a girl?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, he was clearly reviewing the exchange. “Eighty percent,” he said finally.

“That’s good enough for me,” Nora said. She punched numbers on her cell phone. “Ted, it’s Nora. I need you to grab the DMV photo and the Rose College student photo of Anya Ballard, the female deceased, and send it to Sara Ralston in the Reno office. Ask her to show the pics to all Starbucks employees at the address that’s in my report-it’s near the university. She needs to find Summer, who was working this morning, and make sure she sees Anya’s photo. I want to know if Anya Ballard was the girl seen with Russ Larkin Sunday morning, or if anyone else there recognizes her. And can you ask Rachel to get a copy of the suicide letter and fax it immediately to Quantico for handwriting analysis and assessment? Specifically, I want to know whether the person who wrote the suicide note also wrote the letters that have been sent to the media…. Great, thanks.” She hung up. “He’s on it.”