by Linda Berry
When the road began a gradual descent, she knew she was halfway to Miko’s farm. Ann’s farm lay just beyond that, with a short stretch of dense forest in between.
She braked into a sharp turn, but the pedal gave no resistance. Her foot pushed all the way to the floor. The Jeep quickly picked up speed. Panicked, she pumped the brake furiously.
An enormous Douglas fir loomed ahead. She swerved sharply to the left but her right bumper clipped the trunk, then the Jeep dove into a tangle of bushes and came to a startling halt with an earsplitting crack against the mottled trunk of an aspen.
Selena’s seat belt thrust her back against the seat. The air bag deployed with an explosive charge that struck her face like a punch. White powder and hot gas fumes filled the air, the limp bag crumpled on her lap. Her face stung, and a sharp pain throbbed in her shoulder from the seat belt. She sat stunned.
Before she could think straight, she caught movement in the rearview mirror. Through the branches she saw a white car come to a halt on the road and then a man in dark clothing was climbing through the bushes moving swiftly toward her. Her door was yanked open. The man thrust out his hand, and she grabbed it. With his other hand at her back, he carefully pulled her from the driver’s seat. Upright, she stood there a few moments waiting for the ground to quit moving. She blinked at the rain and turned to see who had come to her aid.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
GRANGER WAS WAITING in Derek’s driveway when Sidney pulled up in the Yukon. After a quick greeting, they strode to the front door and rang the bell. Sidney kept her expression neutral, though the man who opened the door startled her. She wasn’t expecting half of his face to be disfigured, while the other half was movie star handsome. And she wasn’t expecting a man recovering from a brutal accident to exude vitality. He looked like he hit the gym every day. “Derek Brent?”
One eye, flat and blue in color, didn’t move. The other eye, sable-brown, flicked over their uniforms with a look of surprise. Then his gaze met hers, and a moment passed as they sized each other up.
“Yeah, I’m Derek.”
“I’m Chief Becker. This is Officer Wyatt. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Samantha Ferguson.”
He frowned. “I’d be happy to help with your investigation, Chief Becker, but I know absolutely nothing about her death.”
“Perhaps you’d humor us. May we come in?”
His frown deepened, but he stepped aside to let them enter. They stood in the foyer of a beautiful home, furnished simply and elegantly, furniture in neutral tones, accented with plush rugs and Asian antiques. Outside the large windows, the rain came down softly and gray mist rose from the water, blending with low hanging clouds. Derek gestured toward the living room, and they took seats facing each other, he on an easy chair, she and Granger on the smooth gray couch.
“May I record this?”
He shrugged and said with reluctance, “If you must.”
“Where were you Friday of last week?”
He thought for a moment. “In Sand Hill. Went to pick up some work-related papers I left at my beach house.”
“Where were you the night of Samantha’s murder?”
The question caught him by surprise. “That’s the kind of question you’d ask a suspect. Are you suggesting I’m a suspect?”
“Routine questions. We’re making a round of the neighbors on this side of the lake.”
“I drove to Jackson and back. Went to a movie.”
“What time did you return?”
He hesitated. “Around eleven. I read for a while and went to bed.”
“Can anyone verify you were home between eleven and midnight?”
A muscle twitched slightly along his jaw. “No.”
Sidney felt a pulse of excitement. This was more than she hoped for. Derek’s visit to Sand Hill coincided with the time someone entered Satoshi’s house and left boot prints, and he was in the vicinity of Samantha’s murder around the time of her death. “Tell me about your relationship with Satoshi Akira.”
The question, coming out of left field, again caught him by surprise. “How do you know about Satoshi?”
“Just a rumor we’re following up on.”
“Did this rumor happen to come from your sister, who was just here? She acted strangely after I mentioned Satoshi.”
“Please answer the question.”
After a long moment, he answered. “We met when I was recovering from a car accident in a rehab facility in Sand Hill. I was in terrible shape. Satoshi came to the home every Tuesday and Friday, and made the rounds, offering spiritual solace to the patients. She always stayed in my room for a few minutes. She started visiting longer. By the time I was able to leave, live on my own, we had become good friends.”
“Good friends as in an intimate relationship?”
He was silent, his face almost expressionless except for his brown eye, which watched her with unnerving intensity. “How is that any business of yours?”
Sidney did not balk at his disdain, nor did she move to arrest him, which might make him refuse to talk. Right now she needed his cooperation. She forced herself to be polite. “It’s my business, Derek, because there is evidence linking Satoshi to the murder of Samantha and Mimi. You knew all three women.”
His eyebrow arched. “Satoshi linked to the murders here in Garnerville? That’s ridiculous.” His face tightened as he reflected for a moment. “You think Sammy and Mimi were murdered by the same man?”
“That’s a possibility.”
“Are you saying the same man killed Satoshi?”
Before she could answer, the doorbell sounded, the chime seeming to echo in the silence of the room.
“Get that, Granger,” Sidney said. “Should be Darnell with the search warrant.”
Granger crossed the floor to the front door, then he led Darnell and Amanda back into the room. Amanda gripped the handle of her forensic kit. Darnell handed the warrant to Sidney. She unfolded and scanned the document.
Derek had risen to his feet, a look of alarm on his face. “What the hell is going on? You have no right to search my home.”
“This warrant says we do.” Sidney passed it to him, which he also scanned. His eye widened. “You think I played a part in these murders? You’ve made a grave mistake, Chief Becker. Whatever flimsy excuse you have for barging in here won’t hold up for a second in court.”
“If you have nothing to hide, you don’t have to worry. Let us do our job.” She instructed the two male officers to go in opposite directions and gestured to Amanda to accompany her. Sidney walked toward an open doorway. “This your office?” Clearly, it was. Computer equipment covered the desk, shelves were full of books, two stunning origami sculptures hung on the walls, and two origami butterflies in glass boxes sat on the desk. Had she found The Collector? “Photograph and bag these,” she said to Amanda, pointing to the butterflies.
Derek hovered behind her. “You can’t take those. They’re valuable works of art.”
“We’ll treat them carefully. Have a seat in the living room, Derek. Amanda, why don’t you wait in there with him.”
CHAPTER FORTY
THE MAN WORE a black knitted ski mask. In addition, he had a hoodie pulled over his head, shadowing his face.
Still, Selena knew instantly who he was. Those eyes…
In a heartbeat, it all made sense, and the startling realization kicked in that she was facing the psycho who killed three women. He must have tampered with her brakes, planned this accident so he could meet her alone in the woods.
Her gun was in the car.
She felt the hot hum of adrenaline in her veins, telling her to take flight. It took every ounce of discipline she had to not react, not show a hint of emotion, but instead let her body go completely limp, fall toward him, as though in a faint.
He acted on impulse, his arms encircling her, breaking her fall, holding her dead weight against his strong body. He smelled of forest and earth from barreling through the
brush.
Before he could free his hands, Selena jerked up her knee and slammed him in the groin.
With a strangled cry, the man stumbled backwards, grabbing his crotch, and then he doubled over, groaning in agony.
Selena exploded into movement, tearing through the dense brush, twigs scratching her face and hands. She hit the road at a sprint, her senses in overdrive, feet stumbling over ruts and puddles, rain spattering her face. She didn’t have much time. A minute head start at the most.
A few hundred feet down the muddy road, she hit a patch of slick rocks and her foot slid out from under her. The ground came up fast and slammed into her skull. She lay dazed, daylight fading in and out.
Drawing in a whistling breath, she sat up slowly, head pounding, vision blurred. Slipping and sliding like a drunkard, she struggled to her feet, the ground shifting, the forest spinning. Was she blacking out? Please, no! Fear held her immobile, then her father’s words blasted through her mind. Fear will keep you alive. Lack of fear will kill you.
Gathering strength from his words, Selena stepped into the spinning vortex, each foot a heavy weight hitting the earth like an anvil, moving her forward in slow motion.
The steady drip of rain seemed like a roar, covering everything. Was the psycho following her? She turned. The road was clear. Was he moving through the woods, camouflaged by trees? Would he attack her any second and drag her back into his domain? She wiped a trembling hand across her forehead, lurched forward.
The distant sound of a car engine was unmistakable. Selena staggered off the road, stumbled, fell, picked herself up, fell again, and rolled into an irrigation ditch. She held her breath, lying prone in the shallow water. Tires crackled on the dirt road above her, an engine cut out, a car door shut. She saw the beam of a flashlight bouncing through the dark forest, illuminating one area at a time. Then the gray of day faded to black.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
SIDNEY SPENT the next thirty minutes searching through Derek’s office looking for records identifying him as The Collector, but found nothing. She proceeded to search two bedrooms, looking for women’s clothing, jewelry, or Sammy’s purse, but found nothing. She hit pay dirt in a room that appeared to be a shrine to Satoshi, with both a photo of the dead women and a book of the I Ching on a table. Sidney theorized the killer took the book of wisdom seriously, construing hidden meaning in the verse that instructed him to kill. The room suggested Derek had an unhealthy obsession with the murdered artist.
Sidney returned to the living room where Amanda was keeping a vigilant eye on Derek. He sat rigidly on the couch, coiled tension, ready to pounce.
“Now I want to see your lab,” Sidney announced.
“You can’t go in there.”
Her tone sharpened. “Open that steel door for us, Derek. Now.”
“You have no right.” His tone matched hers. “My research is classified.”
“Let’s get something straight between us. We can go anywhere on your property we choose.”
His gaze bored into her. “What do you want from my lab?”
“A sample of the neurotoxin you mentioned to Selena. The one that paralyzes people.”
“Why the hell do you want that?” His eye lit up with sudden understanding. “The murdered women were injected with a neurotoxin?”
“I’m asking the questions, Derek.”
He swallowed and looked genuinely distressed. “Holy hell.” He nervously stroked his chin and paced, paused, met her direct stare. “It didn’t come from here. None of my toxins have ever left my lab. It’s safely locked. They’re too dangerous for a novice to handle.”
“Give me specifically what I want and we won’t have to tear your lab apart.”
With a scowl, he led the way. Sidney caught Amanda’s eye, nodded for her to follow.
Derek punched numbers into a code box and they entered the brightly lit, windowless room. It looked as well equipped as any lab Sidney had ever seen, and it took her a moment to pull her attention away from the stunning coral reefs and shells in the burbling tanks.
Amanda approached the stainless-steel refrigerator door and pulled it open. Icy mist steamed into the room, revealing neatly stored racks of sample tubes.
“Don’t touch anything,” Derek said sternly. “Some of those toxins can kill you. They’re priceless. It’s taken me years to collect that much venom.”
“Give me the sample I want,” Sidney said. “Our tech will use it judiciously. If it doesn’t match what we’re seeking, it’ll be returned.”
“I can’t believe Selena got you over here on some trumped-up murder theory,” he said, his tone more disappointed than angry.
“Point to the correct sample, Derek. Don’t touch anything.” Sidney unsnapped her holster and put her hand on the hilt of her firearm. She didn’t need him trying to destroy evidence or attacking them with some killer venom.
His gaze darted from her face to her hand and back to her face. He scowled. “It’s the third shelf up from the bottom. The tube marked with five Xs. That signifies how potent it is.” He gestured to small coolers stacked on a shelf. “Please store it in one of those refrigerated boxes with a couple of ice packs.”
After Amanda followed his instructions to a tee, he turned back to Sidney. “You got what you want, now gather up your renegade posse and get off my property.”
“I’m leaving all right, but you’re coming with me. Derek Brent, I’m placing you under arrest for the murders of Mimi Matsui, Samantha Ferguson, and Satoshi Akira.”
His expression of vexation turned to one of astonishment. “You’re out of your fucking mind. I’m a scientist, not a killer.”
“You’re a man who’s going to spend a long time in prison.”
“You’re looking at a career-ending lawsuit, Chief Becker,” Derek said, his face flushed with anger. “For harassment and false arrest.”
“Save it for your defense attorney,” Amanda snapped. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
As her officer recited Miranda rights and cuffed Derek, Sidney proceeded to do a thorough job of patting down his outer clothing. Something dark and brooding radiated from his being, and Sidney wasn’t convinced he posed no threat. She kept her hand near her sidearm as they led him into the living room.
They were interrupted by the sound the front door bursting open and Jeff Norcross strode into the room, his Nikon camera rising to his face. Before Sidney could speak, he snapped a few photos of her and Derek, the flash blinding her.
“Get the hell outta here, Jeff,” Amanda said, advancing toward him.
“Derek, why are they arresting you?” Jeff asked.
“Get the hell outta here!” Amanda grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Is Derek a suspect in the murders?” he yelled as she shut the door in his face.
“How does he manage to show up at every step of our investigation?” Sidney asked.
“He lives here,” Derek said sourly. “He saw your cars and knew something was up.”
“What do you mean he lives here?”
“He rents my guest house.”
“Lucky you,” Amanda said.
Out the window Sidney saw Jeff in the driveway peering into the windows of the patrol vehicles, shoulders hunched against the rain. A scavenger. But she had to admire his determination.
“Call Dr. Linthrope,” Sidney told Amanda. “Tell him to come pick up that toxin and get it analyzed ASAP. You need to dust this house for prints, and search for forensic material confirming one or more of the dead women have been in this house.”
“Got it, Chief.”
“I want to call my lawyer,” Derek said.
“You’ll get your chance after you’re booked.” Sidney motioned a hand toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Outside, Jeff trailed them like a hungry hyena, his camera flashing, documenting their journey to the Yukon.
“What are they arresting you for, Derek?” he asked.
“They think I killed three women.”
Jeff lowered his camera. “Three women? Who’s the third?”
“Shut up, Derek,” Amanda said.
“Satoshi Akira.”
Jeff lifted the camera quickly, hiding a peculiar expression, and continued snapping photos. Sidney did not find it surprising that Jeff knew who Satoshi was. He’d been in Derek’s house, seen her work, no doubt heard Derek talk about her. Still, his fleeting look struck her as a JDLR. Just Didn't Look Right. Jeff knew something. She made a mental note to grill him later.
Before Derek climbed into the caged back seat, he said to Jeff. “Call my lawyer. Tell him to meet us at the station.”
“Count on it,” Jeff said.
Sidney got into the Yukon and met Derek’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. His face was expressionless except for his brown eye, which watched her with unnerving intensity. “Tell me how Satoshi died,” he said.
“You know that better than I.”
His jawed clenched and unclenched, and he continued in a low, morose tone, “You’re wrong about me, Chief Becker. I would never have hurt her. I loved Satoshi. Not in the way you think, but as a friend. She helped me when I was lost, in acute pain, suicidal. I wouldn’t be sitting here today if not for her intervention.”
Sidney was trained to pick up signals from people; every blink, every nuance of expression and tone, every subtle body gesture. Her single-minded focus made her a good detective, but she could not read Derek Brent. Still, she could feel his emotion radiating off of him in waves. Dark. Tormented.
She sensed he was a man who had traveled to the depths of hell, lingered there in agony, and chose to claw his way back to walk among the living. Now she threatened to take away that hard-earned privilege. There was enough evidence against Derek to build a solid case, and to clinch the deal, lab results tomorrow would irrefutably conclude he was the killer. She looked away from the single, haunted eye.
Two of the three garage doors were open, and she saw Granger and Darnell searching the garage and Derek’s two vehicles; a black Ram 1500 pickup, and a silver Mercedes sedan. She read the license plate on the sedan and a vague memory tried to ignite in her brain. She started the engine and drove, the memory teasing the edge of her consciousness, refusing to emerge. What did surface was the warning that had been intrinsic in her I Ching reading.