by Dobi Cross
“So why did you run away?”
“I heard a noise that frightened me as I was coming out of the lab. I was scared. I didn’t think it was a good idea to wait around and find out what the noise was. So I left.”
“So why didn’t you tell us you were at the lab the day before?”
“You didn’t ask, and I didn’t think it was relevant. After all, a lot of other students might have been there before and after I was at the lab.”
“What was your relationship with Professor Oakley?”
“Professor who?”
“Professor Oakley, the Genetics Professor? We heard you had a clash with him recently.”
Zora’s heart picked up its beat. “What has that got to do with anything or with this case?”
“Where were you last night?”
Zora looked at Shepherd and then at Morris. She swallowed. “Why do you ask?”
“Is there anyone that can vouch for where you were last night?”
“Am I a suspect?” Zora asked. The detectives didn’t answer.
Zora folded her arms. “I want my lawyer.”
The door was flung open and Silas Park walked in. Zora had never been so glad to see him.
Silas Park was her mother’s number two guy. He was a well-known criminal lawyer who had won some of the most notorious cases in town, despite being only a decade older than her. He was clad as usual in an expensive three-piece grey suit, a white shirt, and a Harvard classic red twill tie; it made no difference whether it was a weekday or weekend. Zora was surprised to see him, but Silas just winked at her.
He walked to the table and placed his custom Italian leather briefcase on it. He turned to the detectives. “My client has nothing more to say. Are there any charges against her?”
“No,” Morris responded.
“Then my client is free to leave at this time.”
“Yes, she can go, but we’ll probably call her again soon.”
Silas ignored his response. He turned to Zora. “Come on, let’s go.”
Zora got up and followed Silas out of the interrogation room, and then the police station. As they stood on the steps leading into the station, Zora turned to Silas. “How did you know I was here?”
“You have to thank Christina for that. Christina thought something was wrong, and called your mother who then asked me to come. Silas cast a stern look at her. “But Zora, you should have known better than to come to the police station alone.”
“I just thought—”
“Never ever do it again. Your mother taught you that.”
Zora bristled at the mention of her mother. “And where is Mommy Dearest?”
“She had an important meeting and couldn’t make it.”
Zora was gutted and looked away. It was always the same with her mom. Her work was number one, and Zora was number two. Her sister’s disappearance hadn’t changed her. But that didn’t prevent Zora from being disappointed with her. One would have thought that she would have made an exception with her daughter at the police station.
Silas put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You know she would be here if she could,” he said softly.
Zora looked at him. “I know you are trying to make me feel better.”
Silas gave her a sad smile, but Zora looked away. She didn’t need any pity.
“I’m going to find out what is going on with this case and I’ll let you know. Let me take care of everything from here. We won’t let anything happen to you. In the meantime, don’t talk to anyone about it. You know the drill,” he said.
Zora certainly remembered the drill. She had gone through a similar experience when her sister disappeared. No discussion of the case with classmates, neighbors, police, or reporters. Not with anyone for that matter. She was glad Silas would be on top of things. But that didn’t stop her worrying about being a possible suspect. This was clearly different from how things had been yesterday.
Why would they even think she was a potential murderer? She disliked death of any kind and even hated killing bugs. Why was this happening to her?
“So where do you want to go now?” Silas asked, drawing her out of her introspection.
There was only one place she wanted to be. “Home.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zora stepped into her apartment and dropped her bag on the coffee table. For some reason, the bag had been heavier than when she had carried it earlier today, and her body ached.
It was good to be back home. Something about this place always called to her. Maybe because it was a place all her own and had its own personality, evidenced by the magenta-colored kitchen with its contrasting white cabinets and black granite countertop. The apartment had looked that way when Zora’s eyes first fell on it, and she hadn’t seen any need to change it.
Zora inhaled deeply. The air was spiced with the lingering smell of exotic coffee and cinnamon. She had always had a sensitive nose, and coupled with her love of coffee, made her a great coffee connoisseur. The smell here was fresh, not like it had been at the station, and Zora felt the heaviness in her chest dissipate. She had been right to come straight home.
She padded into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. The top and middle shelves were stacked with yoghurts and sealed containers of baked goods, cooked rice, beans, meat, vegetables and soups. She could see Christina was at it again. Christina would cook up a storm any time she was worried. There was nothing Zora could do about it. She was worried about herself too. At least they wouldn’t starve anytime soon.
Zora grabbed a bottle of water from the door of the refrigerator and closed it. She twisted the cover off the bottle and took a long drink. Being in strange places made her thirsty and the police station had definitely been one of those. Zora emptied the bottle, rinsed it in the sink, and refilled it from the tap. There was no point in buying a fresh bottle of water when you could recycle.
She placed the bottle back in the refrigerator and headed to the living room. Her eyes drooped, and she needed to lie down. She sagged into the couch and closed her eyes.
She was now worried about what was happening to her. How had she gone from being the person who reported the incident to being a potential suspect? And what motive could she possibly have had to kill the woman? There was nothing connecting them except that she had been the first person to find her; she was an absolute stranger as far as Zora was concerned. Zora also valued life as one who hoped to become a physician, and the thought of harming anyone made her sick. She honestly didn’t understand why the police were looking at her.
Zora fingered the pendant at her neck. Who was the witness and why had he or she gone out of their way to point her out to the cops? Zora knew she wasn’t the friendliest person to be around, but she was almost sure she didn’t have any enemies. She generally treated people well even if she didn’t agree with them.
And what were those questions about Professor Oakley? Had anything happened to him? Disagreeing with a professor wasn’t a new thing and was common enough on campus that it shouldn’t count as a strong motive to harm him. In fact, the administration encouraged students to express themselves. And Zora had obliged.
Her phone rang. She sat and opened her bag to rummage through it. She found her phone and looked at the screen. It was Silas.
“Hello, Silas,” Zora said after she tapped the answer button.
“Hi, Zora. I just spoke with my contact at the police and he confirmed that you are being considered a potential suspect given your ties to both the victim and Professor Oakley.”
Zora jumped up. “But I’m not connected to the victim. I only found her!”
“I know. But a witness came forward this morning and fingered you as having spent some time in the lab last night and hinted it was highly unusual and suspicious.”
“That’s hogwash!” Zora said as she strode back and forth across the living room.
“And the same witness mentioned that you had an argument with Professor Oakley recently.”
�
��What the … This is nonsense! And who is this witness anyway?”
“I tried to find out the name of the witness, but Detective Morris had it pretty locked down. He’s the only one aware of the witness’ identity.”
“So what’s this about Professor Oakley?”
“Zora … Professor Oakley was found murdered this morning. And the evidence pointed that it might be the same killer. Formalin and Rohypnol were found in the bloodstreams of both victims.”
“Formalin? That’s dangerous stuff!”
“I know. And it is easily obtainable.”
“And why would the killer have used Rohypnol? Was there any evidence of sexual assault on the victims?”
“That’s what’s so strange. There was none.”
Zora continued pacing. “This is ridiculous, you know. The police thinking that I’m the murderer. Why would I allow myself to be the one to find the body if I was the killer?”
“Zora, it’s going to be alright. They don’t have any direct evidence that ties you to both victims, so they can’t charge you. And besides you didn’t do it.”
Zora stopped pacing. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Remember, we are on your side and we won’t let anything happen to you. It will be fine. I’ll keep trying to see if I can find out the name of the witness. Let’s stay in touch, okay?””
“Thanks.”
The line on the other end went dead.
Zora dropped her phone on the coffee table.
This was getting worse. Now there were two victims. She wondered if there was anything on the news about Professor Oakley. She picked up the remote and switched on the TV.
Zora stared at the fifty-inch screen. The same baby-faced chubby reporter from the day before was standing in what looked like a parking garage and was reporting about a new murder case. Zora could see the familiar crime scene tape in the background cordoning off an area around a silver car.
“A certain professor of Genetics, Professor James Oakley had been found dead in his car this morning,” the reporter said.
Seeing it on the news suddenly made it more real. Zora moved closer to hear more.
“The professor may have been murdered by the same killer who took Martha Adams’ life a few days ago. We believe it’s not a coincidence that the two victims died in the same school a few days apart, and the police are investigating both deaths in detail.
“We have a source that confirmed to us that the police are considering one of the medical students who had been at the scene of the first murder as a potential suspect.”
Zora didn’t hear anything else. Her hands shook and the remote clattered to the ground. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her. Her chest tightened. She smacked a hand against her chest as if to relieve the pressure. She stumbled back onto the couch and gripped the armrest. She took quick deep breaths, in and out, in and out, until she felt relief in her chest.
This was turning into a nightmare. She had just found out she was a potential suspect, but she hadn’t expected that some of the information would have leaked to the press, especially since the police had no evidence tying her to the murders. Zora knew it was only a matter of time before the name of the medical student—her name— was leaked. Even if she was able to clear herself, the damage would have been done to her reputation. No medical residency program would want to take a chance on her. And her dream, the one she had worked hard for all these years, would go poof. Just like that.
Panic threatened to arise again within her, but Zora quelled it down. She couldn’t afford to become unhinged. Right now, she needed all her wits about her. She had to prevent her name from leaking out. And the best way to do it would be to clear her name, and remove all suspicions from her.
She wasn’t interested in turning the attention away from herself onto another innocent victim. So, the only course of action left was to find the real killer. And she had to find him immediately.
Zora knew just who to reach out to. She had planned to call him before, but now it was more urgent than ever.
She picked up her phone and began to dial the number.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Zora leaned back on the couch and called Marcus Tate. Zora had first met Marcus just after her sister had disappeared. He had been a spindly teen when her mother had rescued him from the juvenile justice system as part of her pro-bono work. He’d been charged with a truancy offense, but her mother had discerned that he possessed a keen mind and was bored with only attending school. So her mother had hired him to work a few hours a week at her law firm.
Marcus had taken to investigating like a duck took to water and had ended up going back to school and graduating with a major in Criminology and Criminal Justice from the University of Maryland-College Park. He had come back to work full-time for her mother after college and had risen quickly through the ranks to become one of the lead investigators. Over the years, Marcus had always acted like a big brother to Zora.
“Hi, Marcus,” Zora said.
“Hey, little sis, how are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” Zora responded.
“What’s up?”
“I need your help. I do need you not to tell my mother.” Zora knew this was a hard ask, but the last thing she needed was her mom butting into her business. Her relationship with her mom was already tenuous at best, and she didn't need it to get any worse, which was what typically happened when her mother got involved.
There was a silence on the line. Zora held her breath as she waited. She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the armrest.
“Okay. How can I help?”
Zora let out a sigh of relief. She told him all that had happened from when she found the dead body, up till how she was now likely a suspect for the two cases. She could hear him tapping his pen against his desk as he listened. Zora knew Marcus well enough to know he only did that when he was upset.
“I need to find out who the real killer is.” Zora said. “And the best place to start is to find out more about the victims. A background check on them would be very helpful to see if they are connected in anyway,” she finished.
“I’ll definitely help you. You don’t have to ask. But are you okay? This must be very stressful.”
Zora felt the tears sting her eyes. She fought the urge to break down and sob. With Marcus, she could always be herself, but she needed to hold back and not lose it. Which is what would happen if she started crying. “I’m upset and mad and frightened all rolled into one. It feels like a dream, like it’s happening to someone else.”
“Hang in there, little sis. We are not going to let anything happen to you.”
Even though Zora knew Marcus would always be on her side, it was nice to hear the affirmation.
“But Zora, you know this could become very dangerous.”
Zora was definitely scared. Who wouldn’t be? A killer was involved, someone who was not afraid to take a life. But Zora was not prepared to have her life and her dreams cut short without fighting for it.
She fiddled with the pendant around her neck.
“I know,” Zora said. “But what else can I do? I need to find out the truth. That’s the only way I can be set free from this suspicion. You know my career means everything to me. If it gets derailed, I don’t know what I would do. And I could even lose my life if I’m charged and convicted.”
“I still think you should let your mom know. This is her wheelhouse.”
Zora sat up. “No way. I need people who would truly give their best to help me. People I can easily get in touch with. People I can trust with my life. My mother isn’t one of them. I’m not sure my heart can take it if she disappoints me when I really need her by standing me up for one of her meetings. It would really be the final straw.”
“Okay, okay. No need to get worked up. I’ll get on it ASAP and get back to you. We’ll beat this, okay? You know I’m here for you if you ever need to chat.”
“Yes, I know. Thanks again, Marcus. I’ll t
alk to you later.” Zora ended the call.
Marcus. Zora wasn’t surprised that Marcus hadn’t asked her to take her hands off the case and let them work on it. He knew enough about her to know that would be futile.
Zora felt her body relax. It felt good to have him in her corner. Zora knew she could always rely on him. He’d always been there for her any time she needed his help over the years.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She remembered having a crush on him when she was younger. Her face grew warm as she remembered how she had acted like a lovesick puppy around him. She still liked him now but only as a brother.
Her smile waned as she remembered what she was up against. Possible murder charges against her and a mark on her record, damage to her reputation, loss of the opportunity to get a good placement to train as a surgeon, and possible loss of her freedom.
Zora sighed and rubbed her temples. Her head started to pound.
She laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. She had set the ball rolling. Now, she needed to focus on her next step: finding out more about the killer. And the best place to start was at the crime scene. She didn’t have access to the Gross Anatomy lab; it had been closed off, and there was no guarantee that it was the primary crime scene—she hadn’t noticed any other disturbed areas of the lab that morning. The killer may have murdered Martha Adams somewhere else and transported her to the lab.
She would visit the parking lot instead, the place where Professor Oakley died. It might not be the primary crime scene as well but it was more likely that he was killed there. Going there tomorrow night might be the best option. The place was probably buzzing with police officers tonight. She didn’t see the point in giving the cops something else against her if she was caught snooping. And she would not have the freedom to search the area as she would like. She expected the police to be all done and packed up by tomorrow.
Even if by some miracle the police were all gone by now, her body ached all over. Not a good way to go to a crime scene. She could miss something important if she went there now. And she was still reeling from what had happened at the station earlier today.
