Page 109 of Vanish From Sight
“But she didn’t take drugs. I was married to her for years.”
“I’m not suggesting that she did when you knew her, but what about after that?”
“Not that I know. I mean, anything’s possible but she seemed content, she never struck me as the type who would do that. Not Lena. Our kids meant more to her than a high.”
“Well if she was using, she wouldn’t have known. Fentanyl is often used as a cutting agent, basically a filler for heroin. And nowadays it’s nearly impossible to tell if drugs have been laced with fentanyl until it’s too late. We used to get very few cases but there seems to be one in here every week. Accidental overdose. It’s sad to see people go out that way.”
“So that’s it? Nothing else?”
“There were marks on her body. Around her neck, suggesting strangulation but…”
“It could have come from someone holding her face and forcing her to take fentanyl?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Let me see her.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded, unable to find words to convey how he was feeling. Chambers crossed the room filled with rows of metal tables, each covered in white sheets. Noah tried not to look too closely, though his eyes kept wandering to the covered forms, wondering who they were and what had led them here. Chambers pulled on a compartment and dragged out a rolling table.
Noah approached as she lifted the sheet, revealing Lena. Noah took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions as he looked down at her lifeless body. As Chambers pointed out the areas on the chest and neck that were bruised, he barely heard her, he was lost in grief.
After a few more minutes, Noah thanked the M.E. and left the morgue, his mind racing with memories of his last days with her. Conversations were both good and bad. He couldn’t believe she was gone, and the sterile atmosphere of the hospital only made his loss feel more surreal. As he staggered back into the daylight, Noah leaned against the wall, feeling the world spinning.
His gag reflex kicked in and he spat on the ground.
Nearby, someone working for the hospital was perched on a low wall. “Let me guess? You had the pasta. Canteen food will do that. That’s why I bring my own,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich.
Noah looked up at her, wiping his mouth, then something clicked in his mind. “Of course,” he muttered. Like dominoes falling one after the other, it began to make sense.
He took out his phone and made a call to the Academy.
CHAPTER 31
Wednesday, November 23, 7:40 p.m.
Home was a welcome reprieve from the madness of the investigation.
Surrounded by the scent of fresh paint and the hum of the TV playing in the background, Callie took out a cold bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge and pulled the cork. She poured a quarter of a glass. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to take the edge off. She didn’t want to awake the next day with a heavy head. She saved those humdingers for her days off.
She glanced at the TV as she put the bottle back.
Local news was running the story of Katherine Evans and Laura Summers now that the media had managed to obtain names. So far, they had little information to go on regarding the deaths as local PD, County and State were tight-lipped. However, that didn’t stop theories swirling of a serial killer on the loose since the discovery of Lena.
She leaned back against the kitchen island, taking a sip and listening as the reporter interviewed several neighbors, folks who had met, known or lived near the women. The comments were mostly the same — shock, disbelief and fear. Some mentioned buying a gun for the first time, others were scared to go out.
Comments were as varied as the rumors.
With a third death potentially being linked to the other two, and occurring so close in time to the others, High Peaks had now become the mecca for weirdos and oddballs. Callie shook her head as a reporter thirsty for even a smidgen of titillating information interviewed the head of a paranormal group. “Don’t you feel this is a little disrespectful to the families?”
“We’re just trying to help. We understand people don’t believe in the spirit world but they will when we reveal the name of who’s behind this.”
Callie shook her head as she set the wine glass down and went back to applying the neutral-colored paint to the wall with the roller. She’d thrown down tarps to prevent damage to the hardwood floors. It was therapeutic to her as she found herself lost in the repetitive motion of painting.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. As she stepped down off the ladder, a large dollop of paint landed on her face. She smeared it with the back of her forearm trying to wipe it away, but only made it worse. “Ugh,” she groaned. “I’m coming,” she said at the sound of another loud knock.
Peering through the peephole, she was greeted by the sight of Noah on the other side. She pulled the door wide. He looked apologetic.
