Adelle Laudan - Killer Scents

“Becca?”

She looked up from a patchwork of strategically placed files to find Polly in the doorway. Pink extensions added to her jet black hair, wearing a t-shirt that read, Happiness is Yelling Bingo.

“I think I found something.”

“Come sit.” Becca nudged the chair next to her with a foot. “What did you find?”

“I went back ten years like you asked, and I think I have your missing link.”

Becca’s heart raced in expectation. “Tell me.”

“They all shared the same psychiatrist at one time or other.”

Her jaw dropped. She vaguely remembered her sister mentioning Susan went to a shrink after some trouble at work. “What is the doctors’ name?”

“Pauline Knills-Davies.”

Becca’s mind scrambled for the connection. Why does that name sound so familiar? “Where’s her office?”

“I’m afraid we’re too late. She died five years ago, massive heart failure, right in her office at St. Helen’s.”

“St. Helen’s? That’s where Darla and Susan worked.” Becca sat at the edge of her chair. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“Maybe because her husband is Professor Olsen Davies.”

Her jaw dropped. “The professor? What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, that’s all I could find out. I thought you’d want to know right away. Here’s the file, including her scheduled appointments.”

Polly rested a hand on her shoulder. “Becca?”

She blinked rapidly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute. Do you know if the chief is still here?”

“I thought I saw him head toward the exit earlier. Randy’s still in his office.” She cracked her gum. “If you’re done with me, I have a date for Bingo. I’ll have my phone with me if anything comes up and you need me.”

“Thanks, Polly. I hope you win the jackpot!”

The quirky analyst guffawed. “I won’t quit my job quite yet. Toodles!”

Becca flipped through the pages in the file. Yup, there it is. .. She underlined the words with her fingertip: husband, Professor Olsen Davies. Her first instinct was to take a run out and have a chat with the professor, but that wouldn’t go over well with the chief. She sighed and pushed away from her desk.

I guess I don’t have much of a choice.

Her heels clicked on the tile floor. Dead man walking... Why did the line from the movie Green Mile come to mind? She shrugged.

“Hey, you.” Becca strode into the meeting room. “We’ve uncovered a pretty interesting link between the victims.”

Randy tossed his pen on a stack of papers in front of him. “Oh, really? You have my attention.”

“I asked Polly to go back a little further in all of the victims’ pasts in hopes of finding something.” She slapped the file down on the table. “They all shared the same shrink at one time or other.”

“Really? Where might we find this shrink?”

“Unfortunately she died five years ago.”

“Man, we can’t catch a break in this case.”

“Not necessarily, we know her husband.”

Randy punched her on the arm playfully. “Come on, enough already.”

“Professor Davies. His wife, Pauline Knills-Davies, died of a massive heart attack in her office at St. Helen’s.”

“Wow, no shit, eh?”

“Yup, the same hospital my sister and Susan worked at. All seven of the victims were a patient of hers at some point.”

“I guess we need to pay the professor another visit.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s a little late to be visiting the old guy now.”

“I guess so. How about we meet with the chief first thing in the morning? We can fill him in and take it from there.”

Becca gasped and put her hand over her heart as she staggered back against the wall. “Are you suggesting we do things by the book?”

He chuckled and opened the file. “It can’t possibly be just a coincidence, can it?”

“I don’t know. We checked out everyone who works on the farm, and the professor is hardly in any shape to be kicking over a motorcycle and murdering seven people.”

His pen tapped against a stack of papers. “Something doesn’t add up, but I’d bet anything the answer is out there.” He stroked his stubbly jaw.

“Maybe after a good night’s sleep it will all come together.” Becca stretched out her arms cattishly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I guess fluffing your pillow is out of the question?”

Becca stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, fluttering her eyelashes. “I’ll take a rain check, okay?”

“You don’t play fair.” He watched her leave, shifting in his chair to accommodate his reaction to the swing of her hips. It was nice to see her less guarded, more herself.

We need to solve this case. The sooner the better .

With this new discovery, sleep would definitely elude him. He opened his laptop. Let’s see what I can find out about the good doctor.

Chapter Eighteen

The sky darkened with each click of the odometer. A somber silence filled the SUV, everyone lost in their thoughts.

Becca wasn’t looking forward to searching the professor’s home and hoped he didn’t take it personally. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“I guess we’ll know when we see it. Something, anything that might fill in the blanks and lead us to the killer.” Randy glanced back at her. “Are you going to be okay with this?”

Becca shrugged. “Yes. I’m not crazy about doing this to him, but I’m okay.”

“Try not to worry, Becca. He’s a smart man and he’ll understand why we have to do this search.” Chief turned down the long driveway to the house.

A crack of thunder preceded torrents of rain.

Maybe it’s a sign we shouldn’t be doing this. She nibbled on her bottom lip .

The short distance from the vehicle to the porch drenched them. She couldn’t remember the last time it rained this hard. Thank God we’re not riding in this.

The same woman they met on their first visit greeted them. “Come in out of the rain.” Mable closed the door behind them. “Let me get you some towels, I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.” Becca smoothed her wet hair, knowing all too well the funky things rain did to it. Once they were towel-dried, the housekeeper ushered them into the library. Ten-foot walls flanked rich mahogany shelves, brimming with books. Hopefully it wouldn’t come down to going through this room. The professor obviously took great pride in his collection.

Several minutes passed before they were served mugs of hot coffee, and the professor arrived, this time with the aid of a walker. Pain etched tiny lines around his eyes. Grayness tainted his normally flushed complexion.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. This damp weather isn’t kind to these old bones of mine.” The professor shuffled across the room to sit in a leather chair behind his desk. “I’m a little confused why you’re here again. I thought you searched everywhere.”

“Yes, we did, but we never searched your house, sir.” Chief sat at the edge of his chair. “There have been a few interesting developments we need to talk to you about.”

The professor steepled his hands under his chin. “Please, go on.”

He sat quietly while the chief told him about his wife’s connection to the victims, coupled with the flowers. “Do you see why we had to come back?”

His weary sigh filled the room. “Maybe I can save you some time. What exactly are you looking for?”

Randy stood. “I wish it were that cut and dried. I guess we’re looking for a connection between your wife’s patients and whoever killed them.”

“I can’t think of anything you might find here to solve your mystery.” He struggled to stand. “I’m going out to the sunroom. I don’t have the energy to deal with all of this.” He waved a hand over his vast collection of books. “There’s hundreds of thousands of dollars accrued here. Please be gentle.”