Page 47 of Witness To Murder
When she hadn’t answered, he’d gotten onto his knees and checked her body for injury. No blood. But then his fingers had traced the back of her head, and he felt the lumps there…and the dampness.
He’d sworn repeatedly as he felt for his phone. Where the hell was it? Had he dropped it? He glanced around the room, spotted it.
Scrambling for the phone, he had then recognized the call to Lambert was still connected.
“What’s happening?” the detective demanded.
“I need an ambulance. Now!” Owen had roared. “And your people on-site should be watching for a man wearing a ski mask coming out of the library.”
Half an hour later, they were in the ER.
The medical staff had removed Leah’s clothes, which had all been doused with lighter fluid, and they’d cleaned her exposed skin. There was some redness, but so far nothing worse. The concussion was a grade 2. The doctor had insisted on keeping her in the hospital overnight even though she’d seemed fine by the time the ambulance arrived at the library. She’d regained consciousness within a minute or so of him finding her, and she’d seemed okay other than being a little dazed and unsteady on her feet.
A few minutes ago, she’d drifted off to sleep. Owen hadn’t left her side since he’d found her, other than the time it took for the scan of her brain. And then he’d paced the corridor right outside the room. He just kept thinking of what could have happened if he had not rushed into that room when he did.
A tap on the door preceded Detective Lambert’s entrance. He’d been at the hospital when they arrived. As soon as he was satisfied that Leah was okay, he’d returned to the library to oversee the activities there.
“She’s asleep,” Owen warned, meeting him near the door so as not to disturb Leah. The doctor had said she could sleep as long as she was watched carefully and roused occasionally.
The older man nodded. “No one we interviewed saw a man wearing a ski mask. We’re viewing the security video, but we’ve found nothing on that footage so far.”
“He was wearing black,” Owen said. “I think the shirt was a button-up, not a tee or sweatshirt. Nothing so casual.”
“A lot of people in Chicago wear black, apparently.”
If the detective hadn’t looked so exhausted, Owen might have snapped at his response, but he cut the man some slack. “Yeah, he probably pulled the ski mask off as soon as he exited the room.”
“Strangely enough, the library doesn’t have video surveillance on all floors. Just on the main floor and the tenth.”
Owen heaved a weary sigh. “Which means we aren’t likely to find anything. By the time he got to the first floor, he could have been wearing a different shirt and trousers, for that matter.”
“That’s exactly what he did,” Lambert confirmed. “We found a black shirt and black trousers in a trash bin on the second floor. We’ve sent both to the lab for analysis.”
Which would only help if the guy was in some database. Great.
“This is feeling more and more like a particularly well thought out plan from the beginning.” Owen bit his tongue to prevent himself from revealing the details Alyssa had provided that morning.
“My money is on the roommate,” Lambert said. “She still hasn’t surfaced. She’s either dead or is in on it. Maybe both.”
“Leah doesn’t believe she would kill anyone, but we’re both confident she was in on it from the beginning.”
“She has had trouble staying within the law off and on for the better part of her life,” Lambert explained. “I’ve gotten access to more records, and it seems her legal issues started early with petty stuff. A woman who would assume someone else’s life for three-plus years…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. She might be capable of anything.” He leaned closer as if to ensure Leah didn’t hear this part, although she was asleep. “On the other hand, her GPA is at the top of her class. Keep in mind that she didn’t do premed. She took up Isla’s life in the first year of medical school. Comments in her file suggest she’s some sort of genius. Anyway, there is no doubt in my mind she could pull off thiswhole scheme. Most of her adult life has been one scheme or the other.”
Owen couldn’t deny that Lambert had a valid point. The agency had discovered the same about Alyssa Jones. “But we can’t be certain about anything. What about the ex-wife? She’s the other beneficiary on the insurance policy. Or the investors who may lose money in all this?”
Lambert turned his hands up. “No issues with any investors that we’ve found so far, and the ex-wife has a firm alibi. Granted, she could have hired someone, but we haven’t found the first indication that’s the case. She hasn’t dated in ages. According to her friends and neighbors, she is completely focused on the kids since Douglas isn’t around much.”
“Still,” Owen argued, “she has the most to gain.”
“About the same as Leah, based on the policy,” Lambert pointed out.
Another thought occurred to Owen. After the brief meeting with Alyssa, it made the most sense—if anything the woman said was to be believed. “Maybe it is the ex-wife,” he suggested. “Maybe she killed him—or hired someone to kill him —for the insurance payoff. And maybe that’s why someone has been following Leah and has now officially attempted to kill her.”
Realization dawned in the detective’s expression. “Because if there are two beneficiaries and one is dead or is convicted in the murder of the insured, the other beneficiary would in all likelihood end up with all the proceeds.”
“Leah has already been considered a suspect. It doesn’t matter that she was cleared, there have been no other suspects or arrests. The ex-wife would have some legal standing, I imagine, to use that as leverage.” Owen considered another thought. “Even if she didn’t get the whole payout, maybe it was worth half the policy value to have a scapegoat. Particularly if the goal was to get him out of her life and the lives of her children.”
That last part he’d taken from Alyssa’s insistence that Douglas wanted his wife out of his life. The feeling was likely mutual.
