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SIXTEEN
Surprisingly, Amanda slept like the proverbial baby. She’d expected the investigation to seep in, but it had thankfully remained at bay. She couldn’t remember if she’d even dreamed, but she felt rested. She usually didn’t need much sleep but that had apparently changed with the added responsibilities of taking care of Zoe. There had also been a time when the only way she’d get any rest was with a sleeping pill, but that felt like another lifetime ago. She hadn’t taken them in months, the last package untouched in the top drawer of her nightstand.
Libby had come over to collect Zoe and take her to school. It was convenient, as Libby worked at Dumfries Elementary, where Zoe attended, and lived nearby.
All that morning’s activities were in the rearview now, though, as she walked toward her desk at Central. She and Trent, and the other detectives in Homicide, were set up in a warren of cubicles with low dividers. They were just high enough to afford some privacy but low enough to encourage ease of communication.
Trent was already at his desk. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She held up a tray with two large coffees from Hannah’s Diner as if it took all the credit for it being “good.” But there was so much she had to be grateful for. She’d certainly woke up renewed and ready to tackle this investigation with a fresh mind. She was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of what had happened to Chloe. Both the girl and her parents deserved as much. And if they were looking at a serial killer, best they know sooner than later. The last thing she was wanted was more young women being murdered. “You follow up with Briggs?”
“You know it. He received the file, and he’ll work on it.”
She walked into his cubicle and held out the tray for him to pluck a cup.
“Wow. Really? Thanks.”
“Hey. Don’t say that like I never do anything nice for you.”
“Never.” He smirked, tore back the lip of the lid, and took a sip.
She tossed the tray into the garbage and perched on the edge of his desk. “We’ve got a busy day. Figured we could use the caffeine. I want to talk to Chloe’s roommates and see if they can point us in anyone’s direction. I also want to go to the townhouse Chloe rented and take a look in her room.”
“We have those two names from Josh Ryder too. I pulled backgrounds on them, as well as the roommates. No arrest records of any kind. Then I looked at Chloe’s Snap VidPic profile. She had a lot of haters on there like Josh told us. She’s also got herself thirty thousand followers and followed all of twenty-five.”
“Does she only follow close friends of hers? Are the roommates on there?”
“Yeah, they are.” He lifted a sheet from his desk and handed it to her.
There was a list of names accompanied by photos. “What am I looking at?”
“The twenty-five who made the cut.”
She pushed off his desk and scanned down. “All right, well, this could be helpful.” One of the profile pictures was of Josh Ryder with the handle of high_ryder21.
“This could be too.” He handed her another printout that was several pages and stapled.
She lifted it and raised her eyebrows as if to ask, What’s this?
“I came in at six.” He raised his cup from Hannah’s Diner.
She touched hers to his. “To catching a killer.” Then she looked down at the printout. It was a newspaper article: “College Girl Stabbed to Death.” She almost dropped the papers. Please don’t tell me… She read the article.
Trent summed it up when she was done. “Annie Frasier, murdered at twenty-two years of age, twenty years ago in Washington, DC. She was found with a flower.”
“That’s all? No flower type mentioned or where it was placed? Whether or not she was naked?” Amanda set her coffee on Trent’s desk, no longer interested in drinking it given the turn in their conversation—it was churning to acid in her gut. “Could just be a coincidence.”
“Sure, but it might not be. The case is still open. Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I called the lead detective from the investigation and left a message for him.”
“He’s still on the job?”
“Wasn’t told otherwise, and he had a voicemail greeting.”
“It says it was a flower. Might not have been a black orchid. We don’t know how many times she was stabbed, what the scene looked like…” She was grasping, not wanting to roll right over to a serial killer. She was desperately trying to cling to isolated incident.
“Might not have been a black orchid, but maybe the killer picks a flower that represents each victim.”
“Thanks for putting that in my head.”
“We seriously need to consider a serial killer. They have a type, right?” He brought up an image on his computer. A young brunette was looking out at them. “That’s Annie.”
“Long hair, like Chloe.”
“And brunette. Chloe’s natural color.”
“Could just be a coincidence, Trent.” Please!
“And it might not be.”
“Their ages are different. Chloe was nineteen and this Frasier woman was twenty-two.” She jutted out her chin. “Before we get carried away, we’ll rule out people in Chloe’s life.” She pushed off his desk and left the article on it. Was it too much to ask that the killing stop?
They hit the administrative offices for the Potomac Center for Science and Environmental Studies and followed a nice-looking, fifty-something man named Craig Perkins to his office. They’d been told to speak with Craig regarding Chloe Somner and any other students they may want access to.
Craig entered a modest office and sat at the desk. “Please sit wherever you’d like.”
There were a few options available, but it seemed most appropriate to sit in the chairs across from him.
“You wanted to talk about Chloe Somner?” The senior associate dean leaned forward, clasping his hands on his desk.
The introductions had already been done, and he knew they were homicide detectives with the PWCPD. There was no apparent concern that Chloe was in trouble or had found herself the victim of a crime. If anything, he was completely unfazed by their presence.
“Chloe Somner was found murdered yesterday morning,” Amanda laid out, doing so matter of factly.
Craig leaned back in his chair, gripped the arms of it with his hands, and swiveled ever so slightly. “Dear me.”
“You’re surprised or…?” It was hard to read his reaction.
“Shocked.” He made eye contact with her. “Chloe’s parents must be beside themselves with grief. I heard about the woman found murdered on the shore of the Potomac on the news last night. Was that…?”
Amanda nodded.
