“I understand completely, Mrs. Kincaid. What do you need to talk to me about?”
“It’s about Shelby. She called me the weekend before she was killed. She told me something, swore me to secrecy. Her father wouldn’t understand. He’s a good man, but he just...well, that’s neither here nor there.”
“Go on, ma’am.”
“You have to understand, Shelby was a good girl. She never gave us any trouble. She was such a loving child, a wonderful daughter. I can’t imagine this happening to her—she’s always so levelheaded.”
Taylor was getting fidgety, but realized she needed to let Mrs. Kincaid tell her story her own way. “I’ve been told by many people what a lovely young lady Shelby was. I am so sorry this happened, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“I know you are, dear, that’s why I’m calling. I knew you’d know how to handle everything. You have to promise me no one will know about this. It would kill my husband if he found out.”
“Absolutely, Mrs. Kincaid. You have my word that I will keep this limited to the people working on the investigation.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Taylor heard her take a big breath, steeling herself. “Shelby called me when she knew her father would have already left for church—he always goes in early on Sunday mornings. She was crying so hard, completely hysterical. I finally got her to calm down, and she told me she had been...” Mrs. Kincaid was sobbing uncontrollably. Taylor made sympathetic noises until the woman calmed down. She finally got herself together and finished the story.
Taylor hung up the phone in shock.
57
Taylor was walking back to the conference room when Sam appeared at the end of the hall.
“T!” she called.
Taylor held up, and Sam jogged down the hall to her. Taylor could see this wasn’t going to be good news. Sam’s face was drawn, and she looked tired. Little wonder, they were all burning the candle at both ends. But there was something else in her look that sent a shiver down Taylor’s spine. Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her into Price’s office.
“Have you heard anything about the floater that was pulled from Old Hickory this morning?”
Taylor thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, the prostitute. Lincoln said he’s given you a positive ID. Why?”
“Better sit down, Taylor. You’re not going to believe this.”
“What? You already called off the wedding?” she joked halfheartedly.
“No, I’m serious. We’ve got a big problem.” Taylor sat down, and Sam started in with the details.
“The prostitute didn’t drown. She was poisoned. Her liver presented just like Shelby’s and Jordan’s. Fox caught it and called me down. She was dead before she went into the lake.”
Taylor’s thoughts were spinning, and her chest tightened. “Aconite again? What the hell? A black prostitute completely breaks the pattern. Why would he...oh, wait a minute. Could she have been a test case? Was he trying out the poison on her to see how it worked?”
“Girl, I don’t know, but this thing is getting really screwy. Whoa there, are you okay?”
Taylor was having a hard time catching her breath. “He’s been out there doing this for fun. Just to see what would happen. My God, I can’t stop him. None of us can stop him.” She was wheezing and losing her focus on Sam’s face.
“Head between your knees. Good girl, now breathe. C’mon, T, give it a shot. There, that’s right.” Sam was smoothing her hand along Taylor’s back. It was comforting, but Taylor couldn’t seem to get a grip on herself. This was the second one she’d had today, damn it all.
She’d just started to catch her breath when Baldwin came into the room.
“Hey there, Sam, have you seen... Jesus, Taylor, are you okay?” He rushed over to her and knelt down beside the chair. “Is it like this morning?”
Taylor gave him a dirty look. She didn’t want anyone to know about this. She hadn’t hidden it from Sam; her best friend knew she was riding on the edge, but now Baldwin was on board, and Marcus and Fitz. And she suspected Fitz might have said something to Price, too, damn his eyes.
Sam leaned back against the desk. “Second one today? You had one earlier?”
Taylor had her voice back and was feeling a little more in control. “It was nothing, Sam. I saw Jill’s posters and got upset. I spent two hours with the grand jury this afternoon, and I’m just worn out. I feel like crap. I need some antibiotics and a good night’s sleep, and everything will be just fine. Okay? So back off, both of you. Baldwin, Sam has another poison victim.” Good job, girl, she thought. Focus their attention elsewhere.