Page 68 of The Deadly Shallows

“Great work, Em,” Noah said, disturbed at the notion of burning an image into oneself. “Keep on it.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“Okay.” Noah cleared his throat. “Mason, you’re up.” A suffocating weight pressed down on him. Knowing what Brooke was about to face, he wished he could take all the pain and sorrow about to engulf her away. He’d happily carry it for her if he could.

Mason nodded and stood. With an exhale, he pulled the photographs from the packet and stuck them to the board—all except one.

Brooke blinked rapidly. Noah moved to her side as Mason strode over with Saul’s photo and offered it to Brooke. She took it with a shaky hand.

“Is this one of the men on the boat with you?” Mason asked.

“Yes.” Her voice quivered, and Noah fought the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms, but he had to maintain propriety as team leader.

“Is this the man you saw chasing you once you escaped?” Mason asked.

“Yes . . . he was the closest.” Her shoulders stiffened, and a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

Noah stood, grabbed the box of Kleenex, and stepped over to hand her several.

“Thanks.” She swiped her face, then held the Kleenex in her free hand, Saul’s crime-scene photo clutched in the other. “I’m okay,” she said to Mason, indicating for him to continue.

“You sure?” Mason asked.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Just to confirm,” Mason said, doing his job thoroughly, “this is the man you heard called Saul?”

“Yes.” Brooke nodded.

“Thank you,” Mason said, gently taking the picture back and moving for the whiteboard.

Emmy reached over and clasped Brooke’s hand, now free of the picture.

“Unfortunately, his prints didn’t bring anything back.” Mason sighed. “Neither did running his picture through the national databases, but we’re hoping that when Hadley is able to get to his autopsy, dentals will bring back a hit.”

“Thank you,” Noah said before turning to Brooke. “I can take you back to your room now.”

“I’m good with staying,” she said. “If that’s okay.”

He lowered his head and his voice. “That’s fine, but are you sure?”

She nodded. “Positive.”

“Okay.” Clearing his throat, he shifted gears to the next facet of their case, thankful that the most difficult part for Brooke was over.

“Rissi,” he said, “please update us on your portion of the investigation.”

“Certainly.” She stood and moved to the whiteboard. “I’m continuing to interview everyone in the building at the time of the shooting.” She lifted the top two sheets on her clipboard. “I’ve got four guardsmen left to question.”

Impressive. “You’re making swift progress,” he said. “Is there anything that stands out to you so far? Anything odd or out of place?”

“Actually, yes.” She placed three photos on the last square of real estate on the board. The first was a picture of three bodies with yellow crime-scene markers, their black numerals noting the various areas of the scene. The second was of a hallway, and the third, intriguingly, was a sketch diagram of Stiller Hall—no doubt Logan’s meticulous handiwork.

Rissi turned to face the team. “If you’ll recall, I previously met with a Mrs. Talbot about her husband and fellow instructors who were shot in the meeting room adjacent to the main hall. At the time, we considered the anomaly but didn’t focus on what it might mean.”

She took a deep breath and looked at her notes. “Mrs. Talbot contacted me this morning. She remembered a couple details she hadn’t mentioned in our initial interview. She said when the shooters rushed by her, one of them pulled open the meeting-room door and said, ‘This is it.’ She hid behind a couch when the shooting started, and when they left the room, one said, ‘That should take care of it.’”

Rissi looked to Noah. “I’m not sure if this will lead to anything yet, but I’ll do some checking to see if I can find any links.” Rissi’s face softened. “I feel bad for Mrs. Talbot. She’s really struggling to come to grips with the fact that she’s still alive when her husband and his fellow instructors were killed so close by. She said it’s like the shooters passed over her and chose them.”