Hard Line - Pamela Clare Page 0,36

details could be important. According to the medical examiner, the time it would take someone to die of acute methanol poisoning falls into a range that overlaps with the time of the satellite hack.”

Thor stared at the image of Shields on his screen. “Then it’s likely that whoever hacked the satellite is here and that this person is also the killer.”

Shields stifled a yawn. “We know the hack came from south of the Antarctic Circle, and we know that Dr. Holcomb died the next morning from a poison that had to have been in her system for a while. It could be a coincidence, but I don’t think so.”

Thor didn’t believe in coincidences. “What kind of skill set would a person need to hack a US military satellite?”

Shields was an expert on hacking. “He or she would need to be a top-shelf computer-systems expert with programming and networking skills and knowledge of military satellites and different hacking software. This person would also need access to a sophisticated computer setup with a fast satellite connection. This isn’t something that the average geek could do from the station’s computer lab.”

That narrowed it down.

But Thor had another question. “Why would anyone commit murder in a closed environment like this one? It’s not like someone could walk in off the street and kill her. There are forty-nine suspects. The killer would have to know we’d catch them eventually.”

Shields raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, but you just told me there’s no law enforcement, no surveillance, and no forensic technology there. Perhaps the killer was counting on that.”

“How was she poisoned? Did the medical examiner say?”

“She probably ingested it.”

Tower’s face reappeared on the screen. “Methanol is tasteless, odorless, and colorless. In an alcoholic drink, it would be undetectable.”

Thor knew it was used as a fuel source, a solvent, and an antifreeze, so there was probably a lot of it on station.

“I’ve never done anything like this before. How do I get started?” He didn’t have a problem admitting when he was in over his head.

Shields, who’d helped catch the man who’d murdered her husband’s best friend in Glasgow last year, gave him a to-do list that started with interrogating everyone on station. She promised to scan the autopsy report and get it to him before she went to bed. Tomorrow, she would begin the long process of doing background checks on every person on station.

“Just watch your six, okay? We can’t fly in on a helicopter to save your asses. Whoever killed her doesn’t want to be found. The moment the three of you start asking questions, you could become targets.”

“We’ll be careful.”

They had no choice.

In Antarctica, there were so many ways to die.

Samantha ate her breakfast in the small conference room, doing her best to remember Patty’s last day, her brain still a little fuzzy from the Xanax.

“We recycled the fridges that morning and did some basic maintenance in the afternoon. We walked back to the station together and ate dinner in the galley. Lance sat with us—and Kristi. Then Patty and Lance left, and I went to my room to read. That would have been about ten o’clock.”

Thor wrote down what she’d said. “Did she seem worried or upset about anything? Did she argue with anyone?”

God, had Samantha really kissed him?

Samantha took a sip of coffee, tried to focus. “Not that I saw, and I was with her most of the day. Well, except… But that’s stupid.”

“What?”

“Kazem asked her out a few times, and she turned him down. A few nights before she died, he showed up at her room, demanding to know if she’d refused to date him because he’s Muslim. She told him she was already in a relationship and tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot inside to stop her. When she told him to knock it off, he left her alone, but that startled her.”

Thor wrote that down, too. “Did he threaten her?”

“She didn’t mention it if he did.”

“Did you see her drinking the night before you found her?”

Samantha nodded. “We all split a bottle of wine over dinner that she’d bought from the store here. I drank it, too. She and Lance might have taken what was left to her room with them after dinner. I’m not sure. There was an empty wine bottle on her desk, the last bottle we shared with her. I set it aside for her shrine.”

Then it hit her.

She got to her feet. “Come with me.”

He stood, too. “Where are we going?”

“My