Face of Murder

***

Zoe took a steadying breath and tried to ignore their surroundings. She still felt awful that Dr. Applewhite was having to sit in this bare, uncomfortable room for any longer than she already had. She still had not forgiven herself for putting her mentor there in the first place. But at least this way, she could try to make it all worthwhile.

“So, Dr. Applewhite,” she began, her eyes seeking out the red light that indicated the recorder was rolling, “you have indicated to us that you are happy to answer a few questions without a lawyer present.”

“I don’t need legal representation. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Dr. Applewhite, too, seemed to have gained some strength from knowing that Zoe would be the one to question her. She had raised her chin a couple of inches higher, and the valleys and hills around her forehead and eyes had cleared. There was only the faintest hint of a tremble in her hands as she raised one to touch her hair.

That, too, was something that Zoe had decided she was not going to forgive herself for.

“We should talk about your whereabouts during the past week. I have some specific dates and times.”

“I keep a set schedule,” Dr. Applewhite replied. “Home in the evenings, after a day of classes or patients or research groups. My receptionist has a record of everything.”

“Your husband was at home?”

A shadow passed over Dr. Applewhite’s face, her eyes searching for something on the tabletop for a brief second. “He’s often home late. Sometimes he stays at an apartment on the other side of the city. When he’s working so late there’s no sense in driving back.”

Silence rested between them for a moment. It wasn’t good. If Dr. Applewhite had had a strong alibi, Zoe could have released her almost immediately. That wasn’t going to happen.

“I didn’t do it,” Dr. Applewhite said suddenly, leaning forward over the table at an acute angle. “Any of it. I’m not that kind of person, Zoe. I’m not a killer. I couldn’t.” There was emotion in her voice, but she seemed calm. Clear and direct.

“I know,” Zoe said, her eyes flicking unbidden to that red light. She shouldn’t have said that. It could be brought up in court—the prosecution might allege that other suspects weren’t treated seriously, once they did bring the real killer to justice. Zoe sat up a little straighter, thinking that a change of subject might help. “Tell me about the equation.”

Dr. Applewhite nodded, taking the changed tack with focus. “It’s a theoretical equation I came up with a little while ago. I spend a lot of time working with colleagues in mathematics circles, not to mention certain—gifted individuals.” Her eyes conveyed what her tone did not; that Zoe was one such. “It helps me keep in shape, so to speak, to work on these kinds of projects in my spare time. Anyway, I published it, and I suppose it generated a bit of buzz in local circles. It wouldn’t be much known outside of this area, but at the college, we discussed it in depth.”

That caught Zoe’s attention. It narrowed their suspect pool significantly. The killer had to be a local. Not only to get access to the victims and know who they were, but to recognize the equation—if, indeed, it had not appeared by coincidence.

But the hairs, too—it was beginning to look more and more like an attempt to frame Dr. Applewhite. Which meant it had to be someone who knew her, and knew her now—not some random from her past who would never have heard of the equation.

“Do you have any enemies, Dr. Applewhite? Anyone who might hold a grudge against you?”

Dr. Applewhite blinked at the change in her line of questioning. “I don’t believe so. I don’t particularly do any kind of controversial work. I had a research subject pass away recently, unfortunately, after taking his own life. I haven’t felt any indication of blame from their family, however.”

“And in the world of math?”

Dr. Applewhite shook her head slowly, side to side, three times. “No. I’ve never… done anything. The equation was a bit of fun, really, nothing more. I wasn’t going after someone else’s project or stepping on any toes. Besides, it wasn’t exactly a success. I could never quite get it finished off.”

That sparked Zoe’s attention. “Your equation is not complete?”

“That’s why I published it in the first place.” Despite the circumstances, Dr. Applewhite managed a small and thin-lipped smile as she tucked a strand of bobbed dark hair behind her ears. “I am not a genius at these things. I have studied, but I am not as gifted as others. I thought that if I shared it, someone else might be able to make the necessary corrections and get it finished off.”

All of this was extremely interesting, and more so by the minute. Zoe looked off to the side of the room thoughtfully, turning it over in her mind. Dr. Applewhite writes an equation that she knows is flawed; it turns up on the dead bodies of men all connected to her, with evidence seemingly linked to the scene. More than that, it shows up in equations which are themselves seemingly flawed.

What did it all mean?

Zoe looked into her mentor’s eyes and threw caution to the wind. Tape be damned. She wasn’t going to let Dr. Applewhite sit here, afraid for her future and her freedom, without a word of reassurance. “I am going to do everything that I can to get you out of here,” she said, firmly and without hesitation. “You can bet on that. I will find the real killer.”

Zoe got up and headed for the door. The interview was over. She had work to do—and she was going to clear Dr. Applewhite’s name sooner rather than later. She wasn’t about to sit around wasting time.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Shelley watched their exchange with bated breath, twisting her pendant around in her fingers and anxiously listening as Zoe said things she shouldn’t have been saying on tape. It was only when she tasted cold metal in her mouth that she realized she had retreated to a habit she thought she had kicked back in high school—chewing her fingernails.

Shelley pulled her hand away from her mouth, and tutted at herself to see smears of pink lipstick on her skin. She would ask herself what she had been thinking, but the answer was clearly not very much.

Grabbing a tissue out of her pocket to wipe the marks away, Shelley caught sight of the time as her smartwatch lit up. It was getting late. Far too late, now, to really get things cleared up and dealt with before they had to stop for the night.

It looked like Dr. Applewhite wasn’t going to be going home to her own bed.

Shelley was just thinking about going in and interrupting when Zoe finished the interview, in that abrupt way of hers, and strode out of the room. Despite the show of confidence, Shelley wasn’t sure that Zoe was dealing with all of this well. It was hard to tell, given that Zoe almost always wore the same mask of dispassionate concentration, but Shelley knew how to read people. She was even, after spending more and more time working with her, starting to be able to read Zoe.

“Where are you going in a hurry?” Shelley asked, as Zoe burst into the observation room, grabbed her coat, and turned on her heel.

“There is more investigation to be done.” Zoe was already halfway out into the corridor. “I am going to reexamine all of the evidence.”

“All of it?” Shelley shot to her feet and followed after her, managing to grab her arm and hold her still for a moment.

“Yes. Why would I not be thorough?”

By the way Zoe was looking at her, Shelley had a feeling that she hadn’t looked at a clock in a while. “Zoe, it’s late. We need to leave this for the night and get Dr. Applewhite to a holding cell. In the morning, we can start fresh.”

“We cannot leave!” Zoe gaped, seemingly horrified. “She is stuck in there until we clear her name.”

“I know, Z. But we aren’t going to get her cleared tonight. Besides, there’s proper procedure to follow. You can’t just leave her in for questioning all night long and pop in and out whenever something occurs to you.”

Zoe was deflating, her sense of purpose beginning to drain away. This was what Shelley had been afraid of. Though someone else might not have seen it, she could. Guilt was eating away at Zoe—and fear. Fear that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to get Dr. Applewhite cleared. For someone like Zoe, those heavy emotions could end up being dangerous, particularly since she had no real support network to catch her.

Shelley had to do something about that—and she wasn’t about to let Zoe go home and wallow in it. Zoe could be intense at times. There was really no telling what she would do with that kind of emotion rolling around in her head, given that she didn’t seem to have developed appropriate outlets for negative feelings. They just swum around, bottled up inside her. Maybe she was seeing a therapist now, but she had only been seeing them for a short while, and that wasn’t enough yet to make a real difference.

“Why don’t you come back and have dinner with me and my family, after we’ve finished up here?” Shelley asked, on instinct. That would get Zoe under her watchful eye, and might even cheer her up a little. There wasn’t a lot that could stop a unicorn-obsessed toddler from putting a smile on someone’s face, in Shelley’s experience. She would call her husband from the car and let him know to put on a bigger meal. He never minded having company.

“Have dinner?” Zoe repeated. “While Dr. Applewhite sits in there, alone?”

Shelley tilted her head. It was funny how Zoe could be so disconnected at times. When she cared about someone, though, she cared about them deeply. To the bone. She had a loyalty that could not be questioned. It was one of the factors that made her endearing, even if other people didn’t often see it. “Dr. Applewhite will sit in there, alone, whether you eat with me or not. Look, just come back with me, okay? I don’t want you going home on your own tonight. You need some company.”

“I do not wish to intrude on your family time.”

The response was stiff, and most people might have taken it as rude. They might have thought that Zoe didn’t care for, or want to meet, Shelley’s family. But Shelley was seeing through that exterior, and she saw someone who was confused, tired, and carrying a heavy emotional burden. Someone who felt so guilty, she was starting to think she was bad for anyone to be around.

Shelley couldn’t let her think that.

“You won’t be intruding,” Shelley said, smiling to prove it. She was going to look after Zoe, whether she wanted it or not. She needed looking after. She needed protecting from all the bad that was out there in the world, so much of which she had had to deal with already. It wasn’t right for her to go home on her own. “I insist. Come on, Z, seriously. I’m not taking no for an answer. Get your things together. You can drive there behind me and go home after. I’ll take care of the booking process.”

Zoe sighed, and Shelley danced a victory dance inside her head. “Fine,” Zoe said, her voice heavy with both reluctance and defeat. “I will meet you in the parking lot.”

***

Zoe pulled up on the road outside a two-story home in a suburban neighborhood, noting the presence of sixteen miniature fence posts around a small front yard and the four windows, each fitted with white blinds. She also took in the two cars on the drive—no doubt necessary for Shelley and her husband to keep their respective careers, with Shelley’s schedule being so unpredictable.