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“I recognize that.” Langford seemed to be keeping his rage in check, marginally. “Trust me, if I could give you a name and an address, I would. But he didn’t trust me enough to tell me who he was. Can’t say I blame him.”
“But you said he picked up the blood and the hearts from the van? Did you ever think to install a camera?”
“Of course, I did.” Langford rolled his eyes. “I’m not an idiot. But he found it. Took it. Told me never to try that again or he’d drop an anonymous tip to the police.”
“Something isn’t lining up here, Dr. Langford.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I think you enjoyed killing those women. I think it started with your girlfriend and snowballed from there. Hell, maybe it started before then. Maybe you were coerced, like you said, but all it took was a little push. You wanted a reason to do it, and you thought you were smart enough to get away with it. Figured you wouldn’t get caught. And then, if you did, you could blame it on this so-called blackmailer. With your money, your reputation and a little bit of patience, I’m sure you thought you’d be in and out in no time.”
“My client is handing you everything you need to track down his blackmailer,” Mr. White said. “A judge and jury of Dr. Langford’s peers will be the ones to determine his level of guilt. It’s up to you to find the brains of this operation. I suggest you make your moves sooner rather than later.”
“You worry about your job, Mr. White, and I’ll worry about mine.” Harris stared Langford down. “Where will we find these letters?”
“In a safety deposit box in my room. Lucy is buried by the huge oak tree at the edge of my property. You’ll see that the only crime I’ve truly committed is not going to the police after she accidentally fell down the stairs.”
“You’re guilty of far more than that, Dr. Langford, but lucky for me, you got caught. I know you’re not going anywhere, so we’ll have plenty of time to prove that later.” Harris stood. “I have everything I need for now. Detective Beauregard will take down your statement in full. Do not leave any details out. At this point, leaving details out will hurt you.”
Harris didn’t wait for a response from Langford. She left the interrogation room and entered the alcove where Cassie, David, the Chief of Police, and the second officer had been watching. She raked her fingers through her ponytail and sat down. All the bluster had gone out of her, and she looked exhausted.
“Excellent job, Harris,” the Chief said. “Let the rookies do the leg work now. Get some sleep and we’ll put together a plan in the morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As the Chief and the other officer left, David and Harris turned to Cassie.
“I guess that’s it for me,” Cassie said. “My job’s over.”
“Far from it,” Harris said. “I don’t plan to let you out of my sight until all of this is over. Can’t risk you running off again.”
“But—”
Harris held up a hand, and David tried to hide his laughter behind a cough. Harris said, “I’ll pick you up bright and early tomorrow. Wear some good shoes and eat some bacon and eggs. It’s going to be a long day.”
Thirty-Two
True to her word, Detective Harris picked Cassie up at eight in the morning. Neither woman felt well-rested. The exhaustion felt like she was walking through molasses every time she took a step forward. She couldn’t speak for the detective, but Cassie had trouble falling asleep wondering who Langford’s blackmailer could be.
It was someone who wanted seven women dead and their blood drained and their hearts cut out. The blackmailer didn’t know any of the women and Cassie was still convinced it was a ritualistic killing. How had the blackmailer picked the women?
It was someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t kill the women themselves. They were smart enough to drag Langford into the mix and clever enough to know he would be a willing participant. Langford was clear he didn’t know who the blackmailer was—and Cassie believed him, or else the doctor would’ve instantly turned in the blackmailer—but his blackmailer seemed to know the doctor.
Every little noise had kept her up. Was it Elizabeth? Was it the mysterious little boy? She hadn’t had any ghostly visitors as far as she knew, but that didn’t mean they weren’t just out of sight. Not for the first time, Cassie wondered how the spirit world worked and if there was any way she could further tap into it.
She wondered if that was what she wanted. More ghosts? More murders? Wasn’t this enough? Hadn’t she had enough over the years? These thoughts continued to occupy Cassie’s mind all morning.
She and Harris arrived at Langford’s house. They hadn’t said more than a few words to one another, but Harris seemed to be as lost in thought as Cassie.
When they pulled to a stop, Cassie pushed open her door and looked up at the house.
“Jesus.”
“I know,” Harris slammed the car door shut behind her. “I got into the wrong profession.”
> “For real.”
The entire house was built out of stone and had a turret in the back. It was two stories, but the square footage was enormous. An array of windows adorned the front from floor to ceiling. It was surrounded by shrubs and trees and gorgeous flowers, all professionally maintained.
