“Our pastor said Daniel could help. So I talked to him. And he understood me. He knew exactly what I was going through. He helped me.”
“How did he help you?”
Shrug. Another glance over her shoulder. “He helped me. We talked. He showed me how to meet other people like me online.”
“Okay. When did he move in with you?”
“When he came back.”
“Came back from where?”
A shrewd expression flickered across Terrence’s face. “He came back from a trip.”
How much had Glover told this man? “Okay. So Daniel came back, and he moved in with you?”
“Yes. He was sick. He couldn’t drive. He needed my help. And I was glad to help him—we were friends.”
“And he wanted to help you in return, right?”
Terrence hesitated. “We were friends. Of course he did. But he was sick, so I was the one who took care of him. He had difficulties sleeping, and he couldn’t drive. I wanted to help him get better.”
“Do you know what he had?”
“A brain tumor.”
Zoe nodded. “So you wanted him to see a doctor?”
Terrence shook his head, then winced, the movement causing him pain. “Doctors never tell you the truth. There’s a cure. They don’t want you to know.”
“And what’s that cure?”
Terrence thought about it for a long while. “You’re a doctor, right?”
“I’m a doctor of forensic psychology.”
“Daniel said you were clever. You know the cure already, don’t you? Are you trying to trick me? Trying to make me say it? Like Catherine? I won’t say it—I won’t!” His eyes widened, the handcuffs clanking as he pulled against the restraints.
“Okay,” Zoe said hurriedly. “You don’t need to say it.”
He relaxed.
“Can I say it?” Zoe asked.
“Doctors never admit it,” he said derisively. “They don’t want people to know. There’d be chaos if people knew.”
“The cure is blood, right?” Zoe said. “Human blood.”
He blinked in surprise. “Yeah.”
Zoe smiled at him slightly, as if they were sharing a secret. “It’ll remain in this room. Detective O’Donnell and Agent Gray won’t tell anyone. Right?”
“We won’t,” Tatum said woodenly.
“So you wanted Daniel to drink human blood? So he could get better?”
“Yes. But he said it wouldn’t help him. He had a different idea.”
“What was his idea?”
Terrence’s eyes shifted. “Nothing. He said he had no health insurance, so the doctors won’t take care of him. Just like my health insurance didn’t fix me. It’s the insurance companies. It’s their fault.”
“Did Daniel want to hurt women? Was that his idea?”
“Daniel never wanted to hurt anyone.” The tone was sharper.
“Okay, but he wanted to do something, right? To get better.”
“No! It was all my idea. All of it.”
“Okay, what was your idea?”
“I wanted to get some human blood, and Daniel told me not to.” He met her eyes victoriously, as if he’d proved his point. “He didn’t want any of this. He said it wouldn’t work anyway, not if the blood wasn’t pure enough.”
Zoe paused, looking sideways, as if considering this. “So this wasn’t Daniel’s idea at all. He tried to stop you.” Acting the caring friend, no doubt, while simultaneously planting the idea that they should start with Catherine. Catherine, who knew about Terrence’s obsession with blood. Who could point the police in the right direction.
“He was right,” Terrence said. “We needed pure blood. So I suggested we go after the only pure person we knew.”
“Who was that?”
Terrence’s eyes widened, and he seemed to be looking behind her shoulder again. His lips moved without uttering a sound, as if spelling out something for an invisible accomplice. Zoe repressed the urge to glance backward. “Terrence, who was the person you suggested?”
“Catherine Lamb,” he finally answered.
Zoe nodded. “And Daniel agreed?”
Another furtive glance. “He . . . he didn’t like it. But he agreed she’d be the only one pure enough. I wouldn’t have done it for myself. But Daniel needed the blood.”
“Was that his plan as well? To extract the blood so he could drink it?”
Terrence hesitated. “Yeah.”
“So you went over to Catherine Lamb’s house to extract the blood. And then what happened?”
“She died.”
“Because you extracted too much blood?”
“Yeah, there was a lot of blood.”
“But Terrence.” Zoe feigned confusion. “Catherine Lamb was strangled to death. And she was raped.”
“No, you’re wrong. It was only the blood.” He raised his voice. “Only the blood! That’s why it happened. I took too much blood.” He yanked his hands, the handcuffs rattling on the cot’s metal bars.
“Okay . . . ,” Zoe said gently, nodding. “And then you took photos of her, right? Why did you do that?”