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“No one will give me a straight answer on that. I spoke to a daytime security guard who claims when anyone is here after hours, those front doors are locked electronically. Just like the doors to the labs, they have to be opened by keycard or ID. But some of the other scientists I spoke to—people who are sometimes here late into the night—said that the electronic locks are sometimes disengaged by those staying in the building because the security system is so sensitive and it goes off whenever someone takes too long to enter or exit a room. All that said, the logs indicate that the front door’s locks were in fact disengaged by Adler herself just after nine.”
“I recall in the files that there were two security breaches before nine. Maybe they were just enough to annoy her and cause her to shut them off?”
“Likely. One of her coworkers that I spoke to said they’ve done it every now and then.”
Rachel considered all of this as she looked around the labs. The evidence that there was a struggle was clear. But she knew that didn't mean the killer took her by surprise. She wondered if the killer had come into the building through the unlocked front doors and then got the jump on Adler at some point, forcing her to open the door to the labs and then a fight broke out in the lab."
“Is there any point in looking at the security footage?” she asked.
“Not in my opinion. There’s just two shots of the killer racing through the hallway you come in through. Well, racing to leave. He came in pretty slowly…almost confidently.”
“I think I would like to check out the footage, if possible.”
“Sure thing. I’ll get you in front of it as soon as possible. I can probably get it sent to your phone if you want.”
"That would be great," she said, though her attention was divided between the blood on the edge of the table and the door. She couldn't help but wonder if the killer had known about the tendency of some of the scientists to disable the locks on the front doors. Because if that were the case, it opened up some very alarming possibilities…that the killer may know the building well because they’d spent a lot of time in it.
“A shattered window in Dr. Willis’s apartment,” she said. “And then signs of a struggle here…”
“Yeah?”
She thought for a moment and, with her focus now on the fragments of the broken glass container, finally said: "It looks like the killer is either very careless about what they're doing or they're simply enjoying the fight."
“And would you prefer one over the other?”
“As bad as it sounds, I’d always rather be up against a killer that enjoys the fight. They’re more likely to slip up…maybe get a bit too confident. On the other hand, killers who take more than one life tend to learn from their mistakes; they get more careful, more cunning.”
Sullivan allowed the comment a moment to breath before moving away from his place by the wall. He pulled out his phone and typed something into it. “Okay…,” he said, pocketing his phone when he was done. “Someone from the PD is going to email you the security footage. I expect you’ll have it within ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks. Hey, tell me…do you know when Dr. Adler’s funeral is?”
“I don’t. I think it’s already been held, though. She was killed five days ago. Why?”
“Did you talk to the family?” Rachel asked.
“No, that was Seattle PD. I just read up on the police reports. Why? You want to go pay them a visit?”
“May as well,” she said. “Because nothing else seems to be panning out.”
"Well, let's get to it, then," Sullivan said. "With any luck, you can watch that security footage on the drive over there."
Rachel nodded, but her eyes kept going from the blood, to the glass, and then to the door. Something wasn’t adding up here. There were too many X-factors—from after-hours electronic locks being willingly disabled, to a killer who seemed to know far too much about the victims. He’d known how to get into the labs and when to strike. And with Dr. Willis, he’d known when she was going to be in her apartment in the city.
Maybe she’d been wrong a few minutes before when she suggested their killer was careless. If anything, he may be smarter and more determined than she'd originally thought. And if that was the case, she wondered how many steps ahead of them he already was.
CHAPTER TEN
They arrived at the home of Lawrence and Mary Adler much faster than Rachel expected and by the time Sullivan pulled his car to the curb in front of their suburban home, local PD had not yet sent over the security footage from the labs. Jane's parents lived in a beautiful and rustic neighborhood. The houses were very much alike, with spacious backyards—some large enough to boast a pool. The Alders, though, had opted for a flower garden that just barely peeked around the side of the house. Rachel spotted a few errant wildflowers that had grown out of the flowerbeds as they made their way up the sidewalk.
Rachel knocked on the door, and as they waited, she thought she could hear the light tinkling of a piano coming from inside. As her ears tried to make sure she was actually hearing this, the door was answered. Mr. and Mrs. Adler had come to the door together; Lawrence answered it, and Mary stood closely behind him. They both looked extremely tired, but Mary Adler managed a thin smile for them as a form of greeting.
“Can we help you?” Lawrence asked. He was a short and rather stout man who was quickly on the way to losing all of his hair. Rachel guessed him to be near seventy, though his current fatigue made it hard to tell for certain.
"I'm Special Agent Rachel Gift," she said, showing her badge. As the Adler's studied it, she added: "I'm in town to assist with your daughter's case—a case that we now believe might be linked to another one. I was hoping we could ask you some questions."
Lawrence seemed to perk up a bit as a steely look of determination came across his face. “Have there been new leads?”
"Nothing substantial, I'm afraid. But some of what you may be able to tell us could help make links between the two a bit clearer."
