Chelsea’s anger seemed to suddenly drain and she dropped back into the chair to bury her face in her hands. Sobs shook her shoulders.
Kit rubbed one and said, “I’m so sorry.”
Without looking up, Chelsea murmured wearily, “You should be. You’re supposed to protect people like Bonnie from people like Justin Marlowe.”
“I know. You’re right.” Kit paused, her heart breaking for the second time that day in the face of such grief. “Our next stop will be to locate Justin and ask him a few questions.”
Chelsea sighed. “Good luck pinning anything on him. He’s the son of Judge Harrison Marlowe.”
Bitterness bit the air around them and Kit looked at Noah. Disgust painted his features and she felt relief that they were going to be on the same page with this situation.
“Being the son of a judge isn’t going to keep him out of jail if he’s a murderer.”
A laugh of disbelief escaped the girl. “Uh-huh.”
Kit didn’t bother to argue. Only by her actions would she be able to prove to Chelsea that just because Justin had connections didn’t mean he could get away with murder—if he’d actually done it. “Is there anyone we can call for you?”
“No.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I’ll need to call Megan. She’s been sick with the flu all week. If she’s better, we’ll go over to Bonnie’s parents’ house after everything settles down and see if we can do anything to help Mr. Gray with his wife. Bonnie was staying there until she graduated. Money wasn’t an issue, but her mother’s health was.”
“We heard. Did Bonnie know Walter Davis?”
“Sure.” She looked surprised. “You don’t think Bonnie’s death has anything to do with Walter, do you?”
“We don’t know. We’re trying to find out if there’s a connection.”
“Walter and Bonnie didn’t have any classes together this semester, but they were friends. Bonnie and Heather were pretty good friends too, although Heather didn’t like it when Walter and Bonnie got together without her there. She was a little on the possessive side.”
Interesting. “Would she have done anything to hurt Bonnie?”
Chelsea shook her head. “No way. She might have been a little jealous of Walter and Bonnie’s friendship, but she wouldn’t have done anything to hurt anyone. She’s not like that.”
“Okay, thanks for your help. Here’s my card. Give us a call if you can think of anything else.”
Chelsea took it and turned to go. She stopped and just stood there for a minute.
“Chelsea?” Kit asked.
The girl did a slow one-eighty. “I can’t not tell you this.”
“What?”
Swiping her fingers under her eyes, Chelsea blew out a sigh and looked at the ceiling. “Shortly after Bonnie broke up with Justin, she started acting . . . weird.”
“Define weird,” Noah requested.
Hands spread, Chelsea shook her head. “I’m not sure I can. Stuff like not being available for our usual girls’ night out thing. Or saying she had to study, but not being home to do it.”
“What do you think all that means?”
“I wasn’t sure. When I questioned her about it, she got this little secretive look in her eyes and wouldn’t say a word.”
Kit raised a brow. “So Bonnie had a secret?”
“And expensive jewelry,” Noah added. “From an admirer?”
Chelsea nodded. “I think so, but she never said who and I never saw her with anyone. And then two weeks ago, she just leaves town. She tells me she’s got some crazy plans and one day she’ll be able to tell me all about what’s going on. Then she’s just . . . gone. I hadn’t seen her since.”
Kit looked at Noah. “I saw some really nice pieces of jewelry in her room, but didn’t think much about it. She comes from a wealthy family, so it’s not unusual she would have that kind of stuff. But in light of what Chelsea’s saying, I wonder if we could trace some of it.”
“Possibly.” He looked at Chelsea. “Thanks so much for your time. You have Detective Kenyon’s card. Don’t hesitate to use it if you think of anything else.”
“I will, but I don’t think you’re going to need me anymore.” The tears surged again, and she tried to blink them away, only to have them trickle down her cheeks. “Get Justin and you’ll have your murderer. He’s into drugs. Selling, using, whatever. He would have access to a lot of money from his father too. Don’t let his good looks and charm fool you. He’s a loser and wouldn’t hesitate to resort to murder if he thought he could get away with it.”
Without another word, she vacated the room. Kit looked at Noah. “Doesn’t sound like Megan would be much help if she’s had the flu all week, but we can give it a shot. Where to now? The ex-boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Justin Marlowe. Think that could be our JCM?”
“I think it’s a real good possibility.”
As they headed back to the car, Kit’s eyes took in the campus. “Nice. They’ve really put some money into this place.”
“Gotta give the kids a reason to come, I guess.”
“What, an education isn’t reason enough?”
Noah laughed and reached for the door handle. “Not in this day and age.”
“The buildings are gorgeous.” And they were. Tall and sprawling yet beautifully landscaped, surrounded with green grass, maple and oak trees. The campus had that wealthy neighborhood feel to it. She almost expected to see someone grilling steaks on the porch of one of the buildings.
Her phone rang as she slid into the passenger seat. “Hi, Serena.”
Noah put the key in the ignition and waited. She turned the phone on speaker so he could hear.
“Hey, Kit.” Serena’s low alto came over the line. “I’ve been going over Bonnie’s and Walter’s bodies looking for any similarities.”
“So, what’d you find?”
“They both had body parts removed with an extremely sharp blade. I think it’s this knife you found. According to the lab, it’s got Bonnie’s blood on it and Walter’s, although they think our killer tried to wash it. Walter’s blood was in some of the harder-to-clean places like little nooks and crannies.”
“So we can connect the two deaths.”
“Absolutely. And under Bonnie’s fingernails, I scraped out some skin. So we’ll have some DNA to compare with any suspect you pick up.”
“We’re on the way to the ex-boyfriend’s house now. Apparently they’d had an argument over his drug habit and she sent him on his way. It’s probably his knife too. The initials match.”
“Ah. Well, see if he’ll offer up a DNA sample and the lab can compare it.”
“Will do. Did you hear anything from the lab? What about prints on the knife?”
“I actually talked to one of the techs before calling you because I knew you’d ask. Candace said there were several prints. Some were Bonnie’s. The others matched up to a Justin Marlowe. He’s been in the system before.”
“That’s the ex-boyfriend.”
“And while the scratches on Bonnie’s hands looked like defensive wounds, they didn’t come from the knife. When I asked Jake if there were any other weapons around that could have made the wounds, he said no, but the housekeeper told him she’d done some pruning in their rose garden the night before. The scratches are consistent with superficial wounds from the thorns on the roses.”
Kit looked at Noah and he gave a little nod. Into the phone, she said, “Okay, that makes sense. Although, I will say I think it’s a little strange that he brought a knife and a gun. Most killers pick one or the other and stick with it. Then again, if you wanted a quick death, you’d shoot someone. And if you wanted a body part, you’d need a way to cut if off. Hence the knife. Huh.”
“I don’t know, but I’d say it doesn’t look good for Mr. Marlowe.”
Kit hung up. Then she turned to the laptop mounted on her side of the car and typed in a few keystrokes. As she did so, Noah’s phone rang. He backed out of the parking space as he
spoke into the phone. “Hello? Oh, hello, Ms. Longfellow. How are you today?”
Kit looked at him and he winked at her. Curious, she listened unabashedly. He said, “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I can’t make it over right now, but I’ll call someone to swing by and check things out. All right.” Pause. “You’re welcome. Bye-bye.”
When he hung up, Kit waited for the explanation she knew he’d provide. A small smile played around the corner of his lips. “That was Ms. Longfellow. She’s eighty-two years old and is a sweet little old lady who thinks someone is breaking into her house about once a week.”
“Oh. And she calls you?”
“Yes. And brings me a casserole every time to apologize for the inconvenience.” He dialed a number and arranged to have an officer swing by Ms. Longfellow’s house. Then he put the car in drive.
Kit just stared at him, then blurted, “You’re like the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”
A red flush put in an instant appearance on his face. “You’d do the same for one of your friends.”
She hesitated, thinking the first few times she would, but after that her patience might run out. “Hmm.”
She dropped the subject to look at the computer screen in front of her. A picture of a mug shot popped up and Justin Marlowe stared back at her. “Nice-looking kid—even after being arrested.”
“Kid?” Amusement deepened the corners of his mouth as he cruised to the stop sign. “He’s not that much younger than we are.”
Kit flushed. “Maybe not. Some days I guess I just feel a whole lot older than my thirty-two years.”
He nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“Hey, look at this. He was arrested once two years ago for assault. Got it thrown out and was pretty clean up until about six months ago.”
Noah flicked a glance at the screen and exclaimed, “Hey, I know that guy. I was part of the sting operation where he got caught in our net. I remember being furious because Daddy got him off.”
She half turned in the seat to face him. “Huh. Well, not much Daddy can do this time if his kid committed murder. And if it was a violent assault, it’s likely they took some DNA.”
Just as Noah opened his mouth to respond, the passenger window beside Kit ruptured, glass flew, and Noah yelled as he yanked the wheel. The car spun a one-eighty and careened into a fire hydrant.
Kit gasped as the seat belt cut into her shoulder and across her lap. Shattered glass from the dash slapped her in the face along with a spray of water. “Noah!”
“Hold on!”
Another thwack sounded and the back windshield exploded. Kit felt something hit her arm, then pain radiated upward toward her neck.
A scream escaped before she could bite it back, and Noah cast her a split-second concerned look before spinning the wheel to round a corner. The car jerked and rocked up on two wheels before settling back down with a whiplash-inducing bounce.
Ignoring the pain coursing through her, she scrambled for her gun.
“I’m going for that parking garage,” Noah gritted. “He’s up on a building somewhere following our progress.”
Kit tried to move her right arm and bit her lip in agony. That wasn’t going to work. Placing the gun in her lap, she reached for the radio. “Officers need assistance. Rooftop shooter on the campus of Wofford Law College. Bullets coming from the direction of the mock courthouse building on Rochester Street. Shooter’s location unknown.” She threw the radio down and grabbed the gun again. She didn’t have any idea who she was going to aim at, but just holding it made her feel better.
With a squeal of tires and the smell of rubber burning in her nose, Noah pulled to a stop under cover of the parking garage and scrambled from the car. Gun in hand, he raced to the edge of the deck and looked out.
Kit followed after him but paused as a wave of dizziness hit her. Sirens registered in her subconscious. She fought the urge to close her eyes and let the weakness in her knees win. With a determined effort, Kit made it over to stand beside Noah.
“Are you okay?”
His question echoed in her ears. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
She gave her arm a glance and winced. Blood saturated her shirt and dripped from the tips of her fingers. “And it hurts. But I’ll worry about that later. Have you figured out where he’s shooting from?”
“I think he was on top of the campus courthouse to your left.” He moved closer to examine her arm. “Is that from a bullet or glass?”
“I don’t know yet. Do you see him?” Her eyes scanned the rooftops of the buildings. Nothing.
Officers and other police personnel swarmed the streets, evacuating them, searching the buildings, and looking for the shooter.
“No. Come on, he’s gone by now.”
Kit steadied herself against the concrete barrier. “I wonder if he’s really gone or just blending in with the crowd?”
Noah frowned. “Good point.” He turned and edged out to take another look.
“Noah?” She slid to the floor of the parking garage.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m gonna pass out.”
Her eyes shut and this time she couldn’t shove the smothering blackness away.
9
“Kit!”
In one smooth movement, Noah caught her up in his arms, absently wondering how someone who weighed next to nothing could be so solid. Grunting, he wound his way through the ever-expanding numbers of police and emergency people.
Spying an ambulance to his left, he swerved and headed for it.
“Noah!”
He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t slow his pace. Connor Wolfe, Kit’s brother-in-law. “This way!” Noah shouted.
Connor broke away from the group he’d been consulting with and jogged toward him.
The paramedics saw him coming and immediately opened the back doors of the vehicle. Connor arrived just as Noah was passing Kit up to be placed on the gurney.
“What happened to her?” the fortysomething paramedic asked as he started checking her vitals. His partner, a young, fresh-faced kid who looked like she still belonged in junior high, grabbed the plastic oxygen hose and put it around Kit’s head.
“I’m not sure. We were shot at and the window blew out. Glass hit her, but she seemed fine until she keeled over.” Anxiety ate at him. Once again, a partner of his had been hurt. Fortunately, Kit’s wound probably wasn’t fatal and yet . . . “Check her arm.”
The paramedic leaned over her and probed. Kit groaned and Noah breathed a silent sigh of relief. The man looked up. “She’s got a deep gash here. Until I get it cleaned up, I won’t be able to tell if it’s from a bullet or a piece of glass. The way car windows are made now, I’m guessing this was caused by a bullet.”
Noah flinched as the man continued his examination.
“She’s lost a good bit of blood. Looks like the bullet may have nicked an artery. We’ll get her patched up here, slow the bleeding, and transport her to Regional Hospital. Will you have someone meet us there? Family? A fellow officer?”
“Absolutely. I’m going to go back and see what they’ve got on the shooter.”
“We’ll take care of her.”
With one last look at Kit, Noah exited the ambulance to hop down next to Connor, who asked, “How is she? What happened?”
“She’s all right for now, I think. Looks like she got grazed by a bullet. Nothing life threatening. I’ll meet up with them at the hospital when I’m done here.”
The ambulance took off and Connor swept a hand over his mouth. Relief stood out on his features, and Noah realized how worried Connor had been.
“Good. I’m sure the family will want to know.” Connor placed the call and told Sam what had happened, then he looked at Noah. “Samantha will call Jamie and their parents. They’ll be bedside in twenty minutes.”
Noah nodded, glad she had the kind of family that would be there for her. “Tell me about the shooter,” he sa
id.
“You pinpointed it. Taking your suggestion that he was up on the campus courthouse, we went there first. There was evidence someone had been up there. Didn’t find any shell casings or any evidence to indicate the type of gun used, but CSU will get all that out of your car, probably.”
“I don’t think he knew what he was doing.”
“Beg your pardon?” Connor lifted a brow.
“He was a lousy shot. Look up there.” Noah pointed and Connor’s eyes followed the direction indicated. “He had a perfect vantage point. He picked that well. The building’s tall, but not so tall he couldn’t see into the car. It’s just three stories. But then he misses. He’s not a marksman.”
“Let’s go see what he saw.”
The two of them crossed the street, entered the building, and found the emergency exit stairs. The most likely way to access the roof. Taking the stairs two at a time, Noah reached the top first. He shoved open the door and stepped back out into the blazing sunlight. The city smells assaulted him. The campus diner sat to his left, a garbage dump in the small alley to his right, and the stadium about half a mile beyond that.
Making his way over to the edge of the building, he squinted and scanned the rest of the landscape—most specifically where he and Kit had been parked on the street.
Connor stood beside him and pointed. “Look at that.”
“Yeah, I see it. A perfect view of the law building all the way down the street and around the corner.”
“You were sitting ducks.”
Noah paced over to the corner and looked down again. Stepped back three paces and studied the rooftop. “Right here.”
Connor walked over. “Looks like knee prints.” He pointed about a foot behind the scuffed dirt to a smaller set of marks. “Tips of his shoes. He was crouched here maybe?”
“Could be. The crime scene unit will be here in a few minutes. Don’t know that they’ll be able to find anything else worthwhile, but we’ll give them the opportunity.” Noah pulled out his phone and punched the one-digit speed dial number for Jake Hollister.
A Killer Among Us Page 7
