Page 30 of Relentless
“There might have been events I didn’t know about, though,” Kara said. “I didn’t go out every time the group did. It’s possible there were other times when Shelley, Sunil, and Danielle were out together.” She paused then frowned before adding, “Although now that I say that, I’m not so sure therewereany outings I didn’t know about. Shelley was very social. If she went anywhere, she always invited everyone. I may not have gone, but I would have known about it.”
Chad nodded. “That’s good to know. And while it’spossiblethere were outings or events you didn’t know about—even a quick, impromptu meeting for lunch—we have to start somewhere.”
“And if we decide to speak with others in the group, we can go over the timeline of events with them and fill in any holes we might have,” Ava said.
“So what now?” Ethan asked.
“Now we start again and focus only on these events,” Sabina said. “We want to know everything you can tell us. Everything from what time you left your rooms, to what restaurants or bars you went to, to what people ordered.”
Kara blinked, then groaned. She’d buck up and dig in, he knew. But she needed a moment to feel overwhelmed. Reaching over, he rubbed her back and wished he could do more to help. He’d be right there with her throughout the next interrogation. But at this point, it was her show.
As predicted, a few seconds later, she dived in. “It couldn’t have been the first lunch. Sunil and I walked to it together. Danielle arrived with a couple of the local nurses. And Shelley arrived on her own five minutes later. Then Sunil and Shelley left early. So unless something happenedat the lunch, when forty other people were present, then I think we can ixnay that event.”
Sabina nodded to Leo, who dutifully removed it from the screen.
“The second lunch was similar. Shelley, Danielle, and I arrived with most of the rest of our staff. But Sunil came on his own. Danielle and I were called away early. We were all at the lunch together, but at no time would the three of them have witnessed something not also witnessed by all the other attendees.”
“Unless, of course, you thinkallthe clinic employees are in danger?” Ethan asked. It was a chilling thought.
Gina shook her head. “That’s the first thing I checked with my contacts. It seems the killing spree is limited to just the workers from the agency.”
Both he and Kara let out a long breath. “I guess we should be thankful for the not-so-small things, shouldn’t we?” she said.
In truth, it would be easier to identify the killer if both groups were being targeted. But he agreed with Kara. At least this way, their pool of potential victims was limited to twelve and not dozens.
“Okay, so the lunches are out. Let’s go over the dinners,” Sabina said.
For the next few hours, Kara walked them through everything she remembered about each dinner or night out. Frustration rolled off her in waves when she couldn’t recall a specific detail someone asked about. But overall, she held up well.
When the HICC team finished their questioning, she took a moment to stare at the screen. Then, reaching over, she twined her fingers with his. “Us aid workers aren’t a very exciting bunch,” she said, defeat heavy in her voice. There’d been nothing she could point to as unusual or suspicious during any of the events. Peter, the admin who traveled with them, had gotten mugged one night. And Lucky, one of the nurses, had an ongoing fling with a woman he’d met the first night. But other than that, dinners were dinners and drinks were drinks.
“I know this felt like an exercise in futility, but itishelpful,” Sabina said. “Tonight, we’ll enter everything into a new program the team developed. It’s designed to find connections and gaps that we might otherwise miss.”
“And what about warning the others? I don’t like acknowledging the possibility that the killer is among that group,” Kara said, gesturing to the list of the twelve—now nine—agency workers. “But I’d be foolish to think otherwise. We need to warn everyone, but in doing so, we’ll be warning the killer, too.”
“We’ll be giving him or her notice,” Ethan said. Kara turned and looked at him. “Sometimes it’s good to keep the element of surprise. But in other situations, it can help if the killer knows someone is onto him or her. If they aren’t the sort to crave the attention, knowing that someone is suspicious will probably slow them down.”
“Which gives us time to do our thing,” Chad said, and Sabina nodded in agreement.
“And in the meantime, we sit tight?” Kara asked.
“Meaning?” Sabina asked.
“Should I stay here in Mystery Lake? If I’m on the list of targets, it won’t be hard for the killer to figure out where I am. With all the media earlier this year about our mother and the senator, everyone knows we’re sisters, and they know where you live. Once they see my casita is empty, it’s not a big leap to think I’d come here.”
“Do you think you should leave?” Sabina asked.
Kara lifted a shoulder. “Maybe?”
Sabina made a show of looking around their setting. “You’re safer here than anywhere else. We have resources to protect you.”
“We do, Kara,” Ethan added. She turned and held his gaze. She didn’t look convinced, but she let the subject drop.
“What about making the calls to the others? Who will do that?” she asked.
After a brief discussion on the topic, they agreed the HICC team would take on the task. To Kara’s point, if folks put two and two together, they’d find Kara’s connection to HICC through her sister. But they all agreed that a call from the organization gave the information a level of gravity that a call from Kara wouldn’t.
Once that was decided, Kara’s gaze drifted back to the screen as she yawned and rubbed her eyes. Not one to miss the telltale signs of exhaustion, Ethan shot his cousin a look, telling him not to interfere. Then, rising from his seat, he pulled Kara up as well. “It’s been a long day after a very short night. We’re going to head back to the house. Call if anything comes up,” he said. Kara made a half-hearted objection to leaving before the work was done as he hustled her out. But the fact that it was so half-hearted—maybe even only quarter-hearted—told him he’d made the right decision.
