“They’re a mess in Will’s office, but that’s understandable.”
“What if the killer had help on the inside?” Rick kept trying to put the pieces together.
“Ah.” Coop once again appreciated her boss’s mind.
“The antiabortion extremists have become more sophisticated and patient. I say extremist because I don’t think most antiabortionists are willing to kill doctors to prove their point; it does the reverse.”
“Can’t say you revere life, then take it away.” Coop nodded. “Well, boss, this one’s going to bring the press down like vultures, as well as every local and state politician on both sides of the issue. And in the process, people will forget that Will was a talented OB/GYN, who also performed terminations.”
He turned toward the door leading out onto the roof. “I know.” He opened the door for Coop and they both descended the stairwell, their steps reverberating.
Before going outside, Coop stopped a moment and knelt down. Rick knelt beside her and reached in his deep breast pocket for a small plastic Ziploc.
“Could be nothing.”
“One smoked Virginia Slims cigarette is still worth bagging.” He used the tweezers she handed him, plucked it up, and dropped it in the bag, sealing it.
“Not my brand.”
“Mine, either.” He paused. “I didn’t know you had a brand. I thought you just bummed fags off me.”
“That’s a low blow.” She stood up, her left knee creaking even though she was in her thirties. “I’ll bet five bucks this didn’t belong to Wylde’s killer.”
“Why?”
“Men don’t smoke Virginia Slims, number one. Number two, I know of no case where a woman has killed a doctor who performs abortions. It’s always men.”
“This could be a first.” Rick pushed open the door into the bright light.
“Take the bet?”
“Sure, what’s five bucks?” They crossed the parking lot and entered the building. Then turned right to Will’s office.
Margaret Westlake, the office manager, who was in her early forties, stood to greet them. Her eyes, puffy and bloodshot, testified to her tears.
Sophie Denham, the senior nurse, in her early fifties, had a paper cup in her hand as she stood over Kylie Kraft, a young nurse verging on hysterics.
Sophie glanced at the sheriff and deputy. “Thank God you’re here.”
“I want to go home,” Kylie wailed.
“Gave her a Valium,” Sophie, hands shaking slightly, informed them.
Having seen their fair share of hysterics, Rick replied, “Terrible shock. I know Officer Sharpton took your statements. Deputy Cooper and I will carefully go over them. On the outside chance that something occurred to you since he was here, I thought I’d come in.”
The three looked mutely at one another, but both Margaret and Sophie were sophisticated enough to recognize that Rick came by to scope them as well as the territory. Anyone with contact to Will Wylde was potentially a suspect.
“Did Dr. Wylde gamble?” Cooper asked.
Margaret, surprised, answered, “No. Why?”
“If a person falls behind on the debts, this can be the payback,” Cooper quietly informed them.
Sophie blinked. “As far as I know he didn’t gamble.”
Reaching for Cooper’s slender hand, Kylie moaned, “Can’t I go home?”
“Not just yet,” Cooper said as Kylie dropped her hand, disappointed and beginning to get a little fuzzy from the sedative.
“Women?” Rick questioned.
“No.” Margaret shook her head.
“There was that rumor about the first Mrs. Tillach,” Sophie added, then instantly felt disloyal to the deceased doctor.
“There was a creature given to fantasy.” Margaret’s lip curled upward slightly. “Typical Charlottesville rumor. Everyone smacks their lips but no one actually ferrets out the facts. The entire episode was repellent.” She calmed herself, then added, “Sheriff, given that this appears planned—I mean, no one broke in here waving a gun and screaming—I have to think it’s political.”
“Could be political if someone did come in screaming. Dr. Wylde was on the hot seat.” Cooper said this in a kind fashion.
“That he was.” Sophie’s eyes teared up.
“Ever mention names of people he thought were violent?” Rick asked.
Margaret, folding her arms across her chest, said, “If only it were that simple, Sheriff. The short answer is no. The antiabortionists who incline toward destructiveness are never your neighbors, because you can hold them accountable. What these antiorganizations do is bus people in for demonstrations, throw packets of blood at the doctors—”
Kylie interrupted with a wail, “And us.”
Margaret ignored her, feeling that one dealt with pain and suffered by holding it together and never, ever, by blubbering or seeking pity. “I’m not saying local people didn’t join in barricading our office, but you can pretty well bet the killer is not a local. At least that’s one woman’s opinion.”
“And one I certainly respect.” Rick nodded to her. “Ladies, this is a vicious blow. I am so sorry for you all, for Will’s family. I promise you we will get to the bottom of this.” He paused. “In the future, either Deputy Cooper or myself may call upon you again. I apologize in advance for the inconvenience.”
“We’ll be glad to help in any way,” Margaret replied.
“Indeed.” Sophie wiped her eyes again.
Rick opened the door into the corridor. Cooper followed, but as they reached the front door, she turned and hurried back to Will’s office. She rapped on the door.
Margaret unlocked it. “Come in.”
“Channel Twenty-nine just pulled up with the mobile unit. You might want to lock this door again and go somewhere in the office where they can’t see you.”
Kylie started to rock back and forth and cry again.
Margaret turned to Sophie. “Let’s get her back in the supply room and cut the lights.”
“I expect they’ll be out of here in an hour. They’ll want to talk to people in other offices and then they’ll probably go shoot footage of his house or the hospital. But if you want to avoid their questions, sit tight for at least an hour.”
“Thank you, Deputy Cooper.” Margaret closed the door and cut the lights.
Rick turned as Cooper joined him on the raised outside steps. “And?”
“Going to lock up and hide in the supply room.”
He nodded. “That will give them a little time. Until tomorrow, at least.” He watched the small crew quickly set up. “Come on, we’ve got to get to Benita before someone else does and certainly before this breaks. You know once they’ve got the video shot, they’ll interrupt any show going.”
“Damn.”
“That’s a nicer word than ‘shit.” I’ve got to watch my language.“ He took a deep breath, lifted his chin, and strode toward the television crew. He made the time-out sign before the camera rolled. ”Dinny, I’ll give you a statement, I’ll keep you in the pipeline, but I have got to get to Benita Wylde before she hears of this. All right?“
Dinny Suga, who was pretty and petite, knew enough about the community to know she had to respect this or she’d never get another good story out of Shaw again. Even though she’d worked for Channel 29 for only a year, she was becoming part of the community, one she was learning to love—if for nothing else than the fact that no one would dream of calling her Asian-American. She was just Dinny Suga.
“I understand.” She looked to her camerawoman, nodded, and the light blinked over the top of the minicam.
Sheriff Shaw gave a terse statement that the murder had occurred at around two-thirty p.m. No suspect had been apprehended, and, yes, Dr. Wylde had been targeted in the past for harassment.