Fear Nothing (Detective D.D. Warren #7) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,123
she didn’t know. She’d mentioned the name Donnie Johnson—”
Phil and D.D. exchanged a look.
“And Shana attacked her. The whole thing happened too fast. There wasn’t anything she could tell me. I offered her additional medical treatment, even an ambulance ride to the hospital of her choice. She declined. As a friend—” The superintendent’s voice broke slightly. She caught herself, got her chin up. “I offered to drive her home. I also suggested she contact either of you, as you all seem to be working together, in order to request additional security now that her sister was on the loose. Obviously, she declined.”
D.D. couldn’t help herself. “How long did you speak with her?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”
“And you never figured out it wasn’t Dr. Glen?”
The superintendent’s dark eyes gleamed. “No.”
Phil made a sound in his throat, the one he usually made when he wanted D.D. to back off. She leaned back in her chair, adjusting her position for better comfort.
“When did you figure out the switch?” he asked now.
“Not for another forty-five minutes, when Adeline finally recovered enough to talk. I immediately activated the tactical unit, as well as notifying all major law enforcement agencies, and now here we are.”
“How did Shana get the keys to Adeline’s car?” Phil asked.
“From Adeline’s purse, which she’d stashed in the lobby locker. According to Adeline, Shana threatened to kill her unless she gave up the combo.”
D.D. considered the matter. “Okay, we have an escaped murderer, most likely now on foot, since you’ve recovered the vehicle. Plus, she doesn’t have enough experience driving to make stealing a new vehicle useful to her. We have a description of her clothing, which are really Adeline’s clothes, not to mention they’re pretty gory.”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t think it would be too hard for Joe Public to spot someone that conspicuous,” D.D. said, “which begs the question, four hours later, why haven’t there been any sightings?”
“She had help,” Phil stated quietly. “The person who set off the firecrackers in the parking lot. She drove down the freeway to meet him. Not so far away she’d have to drive for too long but far enough the security team or cameras wouldn’t catch her making the switch.”
“But who?” Superintendent McKinnon quizzed. “Shana doesn’t have friends or fans.”
“Oh, she may not have a friend,” D.D. said, “but I think she does have a fan.”
Phil glanced at her. “The Rose Killer.”
“Meaning we’re not looking for just an escaped murderer or just a serial killer. Now, we’re looking for a killing team, squared.”
. . .
• • •
ADELINE WAS SITTING UP when D.D. and Phil followed Superintendent McKinnon into the infirmary fifteen minutes later. Her face was covered in white bandages, making it nearly impossible to determine her features. But she had a determined look in her eyes as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Superintendent McKinnon demanded sharply.
“Leaving.”
“Now, wait a minute—”
“Don’t make me yell,” Adeline gritted out. “It’ll pull my stitches.”
Superintendent McKinnon thinned her lips, crossing her arms sternly over her chest. D.D. didn’t know how she did it. For a gorgeous black woman, the superintendent was one of the most imposing people D.D. had ever met.
She stepped around the superintendent’s planted form, Phil coming around the other side.
Adeline regarded their approach, then sighed heavily. “I just want to go home.”
“Think that’s wise?” D.D. asked. “Your sister has the keys to your condo.”
“If she’d wanted to kill me, she already could have.” The doctor fingered her bandages. “Not so hard, you know, to go from slicing one’s face to slitting one’s throat.”
“So why didn’t she?”
“You’d have to ask her.”
“Still think she’s protecting you?”
“I have dozens of stitches in my skin. I’m missing a fingertip. Protective isn’t the word I’d used to describe my sister right now.”
D.D. nodded. She stood on one side of Adeline, Phil on the other, effectively blocking the doctor’s escape. Once more, the woman sighed.
“What do you want?”
“Why did you meet with your sister this morning?”
“I wanted to ask her about our parents.”
“And Donnie Johnson.”
Adeline skewered her with a look. Or tried to. The doctor’s eyes were slightly glassy, the remnants of shock, fear or painkillers, D.D. thought, before remembering Adeline wouldn’t have needed any painkillers. She wondered how much that had freaked out the attending doctor, stitching up the face of a fully conscious, fully lucid patient as she stared back at him.
Adeline licked her lips. “I have a theory about Donnie Johnson. I wanted to test it.”