“Well, yes, it’s not something you could do in front of someone else without being noticed,” Dr. Mortenson said.
Sloan looked at Aidan. “That would most likely mean that Richard Highsmith was knocked out in the greenroom—or tricked into leaving the convention center and then taken in the parking lot.”
“There was security in the parking lot,” Aidan said. “But there were also dozens of trucks granted entry to service the food and drink concessions at the center.”
“Which probably brings us back to someone Richard knew. He either went out to see a person or persons he trusted—or he was taken in the greenroom, using the same scenario,” Sloan said.
Aidan pulled out his phone and called Van Camp. The detective was already at the convention center and had been advised about the chloroform.
“We may be too late, but we need to search the rooms of the security guys, plus Jillian Durfey and Taylor Branch,” Aidan said.
“Warrants are on the way, and Voorhaven and I are headed over to the hotel now,” Van Camp told him. “We may not need the warrants. If all of them are innocent, they won’t care whether we have warrants.”
“Or if they’ve already gotten rid of anything that might indicate they ever had a drug,” Aidan said. “But we’ll meet you there.”
He and Sloan stopped by the office at the morgue where Jane Everett was working.
“How’s it going?” Sloan asked.
“I’m ready to send this out,” Jane said. “Do you want to see?” She showed them the computer screen. While the face she presented wasn’t different in its shape, its lines or symmetry from the computer-generated version, it was somehow a totally new image. There was life to the woman. Her eyes were bright, her lips slightly curved. She’d been a lovely young blonde, and in Jane’s rendering, she was vivacious and real.
“Beautiful work.” Sloan placed a hand on her shoulder.
She flashed a smile at him. These two were intimate, Aidan thought. Emotionally connected. They weren’t overt, both of them too dedicated to the job to indulge in any but the briefest of private moments. Jane turned to him. “Is this more like what you wanted?”
“Definitely,” he said. Jane was really good. He wasn’t an artist himself, but he could see that she’d created an image that was far superior to what they’d had. Looking at it, he felt that he’d remember this woman, even if he’d just seen her walking down the street.
“I’ll distribute it right away so we can get the media helping us,” she said.
Aidan and Sloan went back to the hotel. When they arrived, they found police and crime scene investigators there. The security crew, aka Muscles, Mischief and Magic, as well as Jillian and Taylor, were standing in the hallway—out of their rooms while they were being searched.
It had to be one of the most courteous examples of a search he’d ever seen. Courteous on both sides, the police and those whose rooms were under inspection.
Taylor Branch immediately approached Aidan. “They didn’t need warrants,” he said. “We would’ve willingly stepped out. I guess you have to go with us as your first suspects because it was Richard, but you only had to ask.”
“I figured as much,” Aidan acknowledged, and introduced Sloan all around. “You realize, Mr. Branch, that once you’re eliminated, we’ll be able to concentrate elsewhere.”
“Yes, that’s always the line, isn’t it?” Branch asked, a dry smile twitching his lips.
“Always—because it’s the truth,” Sloan said.
One of the crime scene techs emerged from Jillian’s room. “Detectives? Agents?” she called.
Aidan walked over to her with Sloan, Van Camp and Voorhaven joining them.
The crime scene tech wore a shirt with a name tag that identified her as Garcia. She held a green container in one of her gloved hands.
“Could be chloroform,” Sloan guessed, frowning as he looked at Aidan. “We’ll test it.”
“I believe so,” Garcia said.
They all turned to Jillian Durfey, who stood close enough to hear. She stared at them in astonishment. “That’s not mine!” she protested.
“It was in the bottom dresser drawer, under what appears to be your clothing,” Garcia informed her.
“No, no, no!” Jillian backed away, hands raised. “Oh, no, no. You planted that! Someone planted that! I loved Richard. I adored him. I wouldn’t have hurt him for the world.”
“We have to take you in for questioning,” Van Camp told her.
“I didn’t put it there! I’ve never seen it before, I swear!” Jillian said passionately.
“We have to take you in. I’m sorry.” Aidan studied the young woman. Her eyes were huge and filled with horror as she looked at Taylor Branch. He was staring back at her in shock and growing anger, but managed to control his response. “I’ll get our attorneys on this. Don’t say anything until you’ve been advised.”
“But I didn’t do anything. I’m telling you—” Jillian began.
Voorhaven had come up behind her. “Will you come with us voluntarily or do I need cuffs?”