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So, for now, her health would come first. She nailed tis down in her mind as she and Sullivan pulled away from the Willis residence and back out into the thick, towering trees. She peered out into the dark shapes with skeptical eyes, as if the killer was out there, lurking in the shadows and mocking her.
Yes, her health had to come first. But in that moment, she also decided that as long as Anderson would approve it, she was going to stay in Seattle until this killer was found.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that the police presence would be ramped up now that he’d killed two of them. More than that, he figured it would only be a matter of time before all of the doctors and scientists in the state who were prominent in the field of stem cells and anti-aging would be given some sort of security detail. So he knew he needed to act fast if he wanted to take out the rest of them.
Ah, but…he wasn’t an idiot. He had no delusions that he would be able to take out every single one of them. He’d done his research. There were seven remaining in Seattle. Actually, as of next Wednesday, there would be eight; a Japanese researcher was coming over from Tokyo. He’d read about it in a news article.
The way he’d changed up the algorithms on the news app on his phone was just one of the ways he’d gone deep in trying to learn more about these demonic people—these people who thought they were geniuses and pioneers. He now got countless scientific articles about progress made in the field of anti-aging. He figured if he was going to lead the fight against such a travesty, he should at least be well informed.
He’d spent nearly two years getting ready for the work he was currently carrying out. He’d done more reading than he could keep up with and had undergone meticulous research to learn about the thought-leaders in the field. Now that there was more money, funding, and interest in the area, it seemed that there were new so-called experts popping up every single day. But that was fine with him. He would start in Seattle. And when all of those monsters were gone, he’d venture elsewhere. There was apparently a doctor somewhere near Olympia who had been starting collaborations with the labs in Seattle. He’d be the next victim.
He stared through his windshield, looking out across the thin strip of lawn that separated the delivery route to the LaRange Labs building and a small employee lot. He knew that most employees parked in the back because the labs were closer to the back of the building. It was also a better way to avoid the occasional small group of protestors or journalist. As far as he knew, LaRange Labs didn’t get that problem very often, but they put the safety of their employees and scientists above all else.
It was almost ironic, then, that he could now see the back door opening up. About eight yards separated his car and the back door, but he could see the shape of the overweight security guard as a woman passed by him. They exchanged some pleasant chatter, and then the woman stepped out into the night.
The woman was Molly Stevens. She was thirty-seven years old, recently divorced, and had worked as a neuroscientist for the past five years after getting her second doctorate at the age of thirty. LaRange Labs wasn’t her home base, though; she was staying in Seattle for six months to assist with experiments being handled at LaRange Labs and in cooperation with a few other scientists throughout the city. She was also an adjunct professor for two different colleges in California.
He knew all of this because he had done his research. He had read up on Molly Stewart and had done a deep dive into her all of her social media accounts. He also knew where she was staying in the city and, for the most part, what time she got into work and when she left. She typically worked fourteen hours most weekdays, sometimes only clocking in for half a day on Fridays. He knew she drove a black Honda Accord, which she was currently getting into. He waited patiently as she started the engine, letting her good a good distance ahead of him. It wasn’t like he was going to lose her. He’d followed her at least a dozen times and knew the route from the abs to the little townhouse she was staying in while she was in Seattle. He watched the bright red glow of her taillights trail around the building. He then took two deep, calming breaths and, smiling thinly, pulled away from his space beside a stack of old crates and metal bins. He followed the secondary road around the back of the building, skirted along the primary parking lot, and came to the highway two minutes later. As expected—and as had been the case the numerous other times he’d attempted this little dance—he came to the intersection two blocks over from the labs just as Molly passed through a green light to the right.
He turned right and followed her toward the highway that would lead into the heart of the city. But, as he expected, she turned off two miles later, taking a left into a little network of townhomes and apartment complexes. It was a cute neighborhood, the streets strategically illuminated by streetlights at certain intervals.
It excited him to know what he had in mind but to also know that Molly Stevens had no idea he was following her...or that he’d already done it at least twelve times. But even more importantly, she had no idea that she only had a day or two left to live…and that he was the one who held that power over her.
And she’d never even met him.
There was just a single car between when Molly turned left into the parking lot of her townhouse. Her townhouse was in a small cluster with four others; the lot had a streetlight on both sides, and that was it. He coasted a bit as he watched her park and get out. And with that same thin smile on his face, he even waved to her. Molly didn’t see him, of course, but he didn’t care.
He chuckled to himself as he drove further into the night. He’d already taken two, and Molly would be the third. And even if the police did get in his way at any point, he would not stop until he’d done as much damage as he could.
CHAPTER NINE
Rachel's alarm went off at 6:30, and she instantly began to think of home. She wanted to get back to her family, hopefully with amazing news about her treatments. But she was heavily invested in this case now, and thoughts of home were quickly obliterated. She began to wonder as she rolled out of bed and cut the alarm off, is Anderson would allow her a few more days if it came down to that.
But what sort of message did that send to Paige? She’d sworn to her daughter that she’d be back as soon as her treatments were over. She couldn’t allow work to come first even when she wasn’t at home, all the way on the other side of the country.
In other words, she only had two days left to solve this case. Less than two full days, actually. And this was a thought that haunted her as she got her day started. She'd taken a shower before going to bed last night, but she took another quick one just to help herself wake up a bit faster. She then grabbed a blueberry bagel and fresh fruit from the hotel's complimentary breakfast and headed back to the room. Today's appointment at the clinic was scheduled for 9:00, which meant she still had nearly two hours at her disposal.
Using her laptop, she instantly started looking online for more information of Dr. Jane Adler. Like Dr. She knew that basics of Adler’s murder in the same way she’d known the basics of Dr. Emma Willis’s murder. And the few articles she read over didn’t supply her with anything new.
Adler had been killed in her lab by an unseen assailant. There had been a brief chase, and so on. But even when she tried to do a deep dive into Dr. Adler's history, there was nothing hugely controversial. In fact, there was very little to find at all.
She was reading through another article—the sixth she’d tried—when her cellphone rang. She half expected it to be Jack, even though they’d agreed to not be the syrupy-sweet, engaged couple who called each other every chance they got. She’d phoned him the night before and they’d spoken for about fifteen minutes before both agreeing it should be enough before she called to say goodnight to Paige the following day.
It wasn’t Jack, though. The number that appeared on her call display was a local number. She answered it, fairly certain Sullivan would be on the other end…only she didn’t recall ever giving him her number.
“This is Agent Gift,” she answered.
“Good morning, Agent Gift. It’s Detective Sullivan. I didn’t call too early, did I?”
“Not at all. I’m glad to hear from you, actually.”
“Good. I know you said you had another appointment today…this morning, right?”
“That’s right. I should be free sometime around ten or so.”
“Perfect. How do you feel about meeting me over at Dr. Alder’s labs? They’re located near St. John Memorial.”
