Page 17 of Condor’s Vow

Whether this woman was the killer or not, Clay felt compassion for her, but his job wasn’t to be judge, jury, and executioner, it was to apprehend and get justice for the other victims then hand the case over to the DA who would do the next part.

As the ambulance drove away with Stephanie Clark on route to the hospital, he and his team combed through the house for evidence that would prove she was the First Responder Killer as the press had dubbed it.

It would be hours before she was out of surgery and fit enough to interview, and until then, he needed as much physical evidence to tie her to the victims as he could get.

Cruz walked in an hour later and moved straight to him. “What do we have?”

“Nothing so far that counts as evidence. A diary with some pretty dark thoughts in it, but more aimed at herself than anyone else. No weapons, no trophies or photos of the victims. Her home is a shrine to her kids. I have the crime scene techs dusting for trace evidence and going through this place with a fine-tooth comb.”

“You think she did it?” Cruz was poking his head in the kid’s bedroom as he asked it, his eyes going wide when he saw the sheer volume of stuff inside, from toys, clothes hanging up, and the manikins of children asleep in the beds. It was creepy and showed a level of instability that would fit with what they knew of the killer.

Clay lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “We both know it isn’t that simple, but if I had to guess then no, my gut tells me she’s grieving, but her mental capacity seems too far gone to be carrying out these attacks. I’ll talk to her as soon as she comes out of surgery.”

“Want me to continue with the victims’ families?”

Cruz had an affinity for the families of the victims and was a good choice when it came to liaising between the bureau and the task force. He was calm and level-headed, and a damn good agent. There was nobody Clay would rather have in his court than Cruz.

“Yes, please. See if there was any contact between Stephanie Clark and the family members or victims before they were killed.”

“Will do.”

Cruz left and Clay sent Hawk and Sandstorm to tell Stephanie Clark’s parents that their daughter was in the hospital. He winced as he moved on the stairs remembering his ribs. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, had just acted, but it hurt like a son of a bitch. He knew if he looked, there would be one big bruise over his chest. He’d taken enough bullets to the vest to realize it would be a week before he could move freely and without pain again.

Clay thought about Hattie as he was finishing up paperwork that evening, knowing she was working a twelve-hour shift today and would most likely have had to deal with Stephanie Clark as she came into the emergency department.

He looked at his watch and saw it was nine o’clock and she’d be finishing her shift in an hour. He didn’t want to push too hard, but she had to eat, and so did he. Perhaps he could persuade her to grab a quick dinner at the diner two blocks up from the hospital.

With a smile, he quickly typed up the report for the deputy director on the shooting, and brought him up to date on the case before he grabbed his jacket and went to see if he could improve his day.