“Here we are.”
Sam could understand why George held his position; for an exacting professional like Ledbetter, she needed someone who was as driven and talented as she was to be her eyes and ears and an extra set of hands. A second brain.
Sam went around to the back of the desk and looked at the area in question that George had blown up.
Son of a bitch.
“Were the cops here, George?”
“Oh, yeah. They took a bunch of files and asked us all questions last night.”
But they hadn’t seen the picture.
“Excuse me for just one second.”
“Sure. I’ll go get that tea.”
The minute he was out of earshot she got on her cell phone and called Fletcher.
He answered on the first ring but didn’t say her name, just said, “Fletcher.”
“I know what the toxin was.”
“That’s my girl. What is it?”
“Abrin. From the rosary pea plant. One of the deadliest, most poisonous plants in the world. They use the seeds in jewelry all over the tropics. It’s actually naturalized in Florida and Georgia, grows primarily in warm places. The labs would never know to look for it, because it’s never been successfully weaponized, like ricin and anthrax. The tox screen and air-quality tests will come back inconclusive unless we test for abrin specifically. But if it’s inhaled, it can absolutely cause hemorrhagic pneumonia like we saw in all three victims. It would mimic ricin, but the effects can be slower. The people who are still sick can get sicker if they’ve been exposed to enough of it.”
“How did you figure it out?”
“I’m at Loa Ledbetter’s office. There’s a picture of her in a pasture in Hawaii surrounded by the plants. When I saw it, everything clicked. I remember it from school, just a basic from the list of poisonous plants you’re supposed to stay away from.”
“Are we looking at her as a suspect instead of a victim?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call Nocek and tell him to change the tox screens, see if I’m right.”
Fletcher hesitated. “Will you do me another favor when you do that?”
“Of course.”
“Ask him to get a DNA sample from the congressman.”
“I thought you already had it confirmed.”
“Before I go off half-cocked into this investigation, I want to make sure the previous investigators have it right.”
“Good call, Fletch. I’m going to go. You need to get with your people and have them spread the word of what the toxin is so they can treat the remaining victims as quickly as possible. I don’t think there’s an antidote, but there may be things they can do to help flush it from their systems faster.”
“Are you off to Conlon next?”
“I’m going to be here for a bit, look deeper into her life. The cops took a bunch of her files and such, but her assistant knows everything.”
“All right. Be careful. Bianco hasn’t figured out you’re gone yet. I’ve managed to distract Inez, but she’s going to catch on any second.”
“See ya, Fletch.”
She hung up the phone, feeling triumphant. Knowing what the toxin was would go a long way toward figuring out who was behind the attacks.
Chapter 21
Dillon, Colorado
Alexander Whitfield
Dillon, Colorado, was a small town nestled in a valley ten miles east of the Continental Divide, with a pristine lake that accepted the runoff from the surrounding mountains and provided a perfect place for ski season lodging and summer sports. Xander had grown up skiing the nearby slopes of Keystone and Breckenridge and Vail and Beaver Creek in the winter, boating on Lake Dillon in the summers, fishing its tributaries for trout that his father would fillet and his mother would cook for dinner. It was an idyllic spot, the perfect place to raise children when you wanted to stay off the beaten path. Xander’s parents had set down roots there, falling in love with the stunning setting, the sense of privacy and the fertile land.
His parents still lived in the house on Bootlegger Ridge Road. He laid bets with himself as he took the exit off the highway—Sunshine would be in the garden, Roth would be in the smokehouse.
He was right. When he rolled up in the driveway, he could see flashes of the cheerful yellow sundress his mother was wearing, one of her own making, from design to fabric to dye, and smoke rising from the chimney of the small shed to the right of the alpine house.
His parents’ dogs, Star and Day Lily, came rushing out to the car. Star was a German shepherd, sister to his own dog, Thor. Day Lily was a black spaniel, happy and giddy and sweet and silly. Sunshine was right behind them, a huge grin on her face.