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“According to colleagues,” the anchorwoman continued, “Zweifel was trying to create chemical enhancements to advance health and awareness for aging Alzheimer patients. But his research went too far. After striking today’s victim over the back of the head and knocking her unconscious, Zweifel allegedly dragged her into Crimper Hall through a hidden back door and into the basement, where he typically performed his experiments.”
When I shuddered at the memory, Hudson pulled me closer, and Keene reached out to grab my hand. I glanced at the two of them gratefully, glad for their support.
“By the time she came to,” the reporter went on, “Zweifel had strapped her against her will to an examining table and was beginning to cut into her with a scalpel as he confessed to the killing of another past student, Thalia Archer, who was murdered ten years ago this December in her apartment along Bridleway in the historic brownstone district. Archer’s murder had been yet unsolved until a search at Zweifel’s residence this afternoon provided detailed evidence that should unequivocally tie him to the scene of her murder.”
“Yes!” Keene cheered, lifting his hands in victory while Thane whistled and Foster clapped. “They really got the fucker.”
“Justice for Thalia,” Hudson murmured with an approving nod. “It’s about damn time.”
Alec glanced at me. “Damien’s going to be so relieved.”
I nodded, even as tears filled my eyes, hoping he survived to actuallyhearit.
But what was taking them so long to come back to us with an update? Something had to be seriously wrong if he’d been in surgery this long.
“Also found in Zweifel’s home,” the anchorwoman went on, “were human remains, along with a room full of personal effects belonging to Hailey Junges, who was reported missing from campus by her roommate in late August.”
“Oh shit,” Thane breathed in horror.
I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling awful. “So she didn’t just drop out.”
“The bastard killed her too?” Keene gulped with wide eyes.
“He must’ve cleared out her dorm and emailed all her professors, impersonating her,” Foster concluded.
“Reports say that a handful of Zweifel’s past subjects have already come forward since the terrifying scene erupted on campus,” the woman on the television added.
A college-aged girl’s face popped onto the screen with a microphone in front of her. “He made us sign a nondisclosure agreement,” she started in a shaky voice as she wiped at her eyes. “So I didn’t think I could talk about it, but the drugs he gave us were like paralytics, and while I couldn’t moveortalk, he would touch and undress me. One of my friends said he even…raped her. But the stuff he gave us was so addictive that we just kept going back for more because…we needed it.”
“Sick bastard,” Thane sneered. “Thank God he’s finally behind bars.”
“I heard he even carved his name into one girl’s thigh,” the interviewee added, as she wiped her wet cheeks.
“See, I don’t get that,” Alec spoke up, shaking his head. “He’s a chemistry guy. Whycuton people? A biology professor…maybe. They’d be more interested in human anatomy, but…a chem buff?”
“That’syour takeaway?” Parker asked with an incredulous squint. “This psycho drugged, raped, andkilledpeople. But you want to know why his special interest was chemicals?”
Alec shrugged out a weak wince. “Good point.”
“Authorities have even answered the question of how Zweifel was able to gain access into Archer’s brownstone a decade ago when they realized the professor’sbrotherlived right next door to her and had a roof patio within jumping distance to Archer’s,” the news reporter was saying.
“Well, son of a bitch,” Hudson breathed. “Damien could never figure out how the killer got inorout. The locks on the ground level were all secure.”
I shivered and rubbed my arms, wondering if I’d ever actuallylockedthe roof door.
“I still can’t believe ten years of questions have all been answered in one day,” Thane murmured, shaking his head in amazement, only to jump when his jeans began to ring.
When we all glanced his way, he rushed to stand and pull his phone free. But when he saw the screen, he winced. “Damn, it’s Archer’s parents again. They’re not going to like hearing that we haven’t heard anything yet.”
As he walked from the waiting room to answer the call, I debated whether I should call my own parents. But I was doing okay, and the local news here probably wouldn’t reach that far, so I didn’t want to alarm them just yet.
I had to hear if Damien was okay first.
On the television, a picture of Foster’s face flashed across the screen, one of those professional shots of him in his football jersey.
“It was by pure happenstance,” the news reporter stated, “that a couple of students witnessed Zweifel dragging the victim’s prone body into Crimper Hall and decided to investigate until they caught the professor mid-attack. Among these heroes of the day is our very own Haverick star quarterback, Foster Union…”
And they went back to showing the footage of a shirtless Foster heroically carrying me from Crimper Hall as they started the segment over again from the beginning.
