Palazzolos, and maybe by Friday we’ll have answers.”
David didn’t comment. He stared at her board. She didn’t know exactly what he was thinking.
“I have a change of plans for tomorrow,” Max said.
“No.”
“You can come with me.”
“Oh, I can?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “I scheduled a meeting with Dr. Arthur Ullman here at two in the afternoon. I’ll bail on court, let Riley have my credentials. It’ll be good for her, and I saw the docket. Tomorrow afternoon it’s the forensics reports, which I’ve read and much of the information is dry and boring. So right after my noon report with Ace outside the courthouse, we’ll grab lunch and head back here.”
“That’s a change I can live with,” David said. “What do you make of his comment about not being violent?”
“You’re getting really good at this,” Max said. “Soon you’ll be the investigative reporter.”
David shot her a nasty look as they walked back downstairs to finish dinner.
“He said it twice,” she said. “‘I’m not violent.’ He’s a hands-off killer. He likes watching his victims die, almost passive. I think Arthur will steer us in the right direction.”
“I’m serious about your security measures,”
“I know you are. And I promise, I’ll be just as serious.”
“Don’t pursue his partner without me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.”
Chapter Seven
When the door opened, Riley held up the six-pack of Blue Point Summer Ale from the local brewery on Long Island.
“Oh, God, Riley, you want something.” Kyle groaned. “It’s ten o’clock. I have class in the morning. At nine. ”
“Nine? That’s early? Wuss.” Riley walked in before Kyle could shut the door on her.
He grabbed the six-pack and frowned. “I’m not sharing.”
“I got them all for you,” she said. “Besides, I have to be up at six to meet my boss at seven. So don’t complain about a nine A.M. class.”
“I’ll give you an hour.”
“If you’re good, that’s all it’ll take.”
He rolled his eyes and put the six-pack in the refrigerator. He pulled two out, grabbed the bottle opener that was attached to the refrigerator, and opened them up. He handed one to Riley. “You know I always share.”
She clicked her bottle to his and sipped. “Thank you, sir. I’m hoping this will be easy, but I’m kind of stumped on where to start.”
Riley had met Kyle Callahan at Columbia when she was a senior and he was a junior. He started dating her roommate and the first time they met, Riley had seen far more of Kyle than she wanted when she walked into a romantic tryst in the dorm. Kyle and her roommate had broken up after a semester, but Riley and Kyle remained friends. He’d graduated last month, but was taking summer classes toward his masters in communication. He was a computer genius, as far as Riley was concerned, and she didn’t know why he hadn’t gone into the field. She’d asked—often—but he’d never given her a straight answer.
“One hour,” Kyle said. “I need my beauty sleep.”
She snorted a laugh, then explained what she wanted. “I have a list of all mental health facilities, public and private, within a seventy-mile radius of Hartford, Connecticut.” She’d narrowed the list down by putting herself in Bachman’s shoes—if he was truly having difficulty adjusting to college, then he would want to be closer to home. That was her guess. According to all of Max’s notes, he was still close to his mother. There would be a comfort there, she thought. If her idea didn’t pan out, she had a second list of facilities closer to Boston.
“I need to find out if someone was a patient there, but patient records are confidential. So the best thing is to narrow down to the type of facility, and then when I get a workable list—under ten—to run a search for disgruntled employees or someone on the staff who might talk.”
“Is this about Adam Bachman?”
“That’s
David didn’t comment. He stared at her board. She didn’t know exactly what he was thinking.
“I have a change of plans for tomorrow,” Max said.
“No.”
“You can come with me.”
“Oh, I can?”
She ignored his sarcasm. “I scheduled a meeting with Dr. Arthur Ullman here at two in the afternoon. I’ll bail on court, let Riley have my credentials. It’ll be good for her, and I saw the docket. Tomorrow afternoon it’s the forensics reports, which I’ve read and much of the information is dry and boring. So right after my noon report with Ace outside the courthouse, we’ll grab lunch and head back here.”
“That’s a change I can live with,” David said. “What do you make of his comment about not being violent?”
“You’re getting really good at this,” Max said. “Soon you’ll be the investigative reporter.”
David shot her a nasty look as they walked back downstairs to finish dinner.
“He said it twice,” she said. “‘I’m not violent.’ He’s a hands-off killer. He likes watching his victims die, almost passive. I think Arthur will steer us in the right direction.”
“I’m serious about your security measures,”
“I know you are. And I promise, I’ll be just as serious.”
“Don’t pursue his partner without me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it.”
Chapter Seven
When the door opened, Riley held up the six-pack of Blue Point Summer Ale from the local brewery on Long Island.
“Oh, God, Riley, you want something.” Kyle groaned. “It’s ten o’clock. I have class in the morning. At nine. ”
“Nine? That’s early? Wuss.” Riley walked in before Kyle could shut the door on her.
He grabbed the six-pack and frowned. “I’m not sharing.”
“I got them all for you,” she said. “Besides, I have to be up at six to meet my boss at seven. So don’t complain about a nine A.M. class.”
“I’ll give you an hour.”
“If you’re good, that’s all it’ll take.”
He rolled his eyes and put the six-pack in the refrigerator. He pulled two out, grabbed the bottle opener that was attached to the refrigerator, and opened them up. He handed one to Riley. “You know I always share.”
She clicked her bottle to his and sipped. “Thank you, sir. I’m hoping this will be easy, but I’m kind of stumped on where to start.”
Riley had met Kyle Callahan at Columbia when she was a senior and he was a junior. He started dating her roommate and the first time they met, Riley had seen far more of Kyle than she wanted when she walked into a romantic tryst in the dorm. Kyle and her roommate had broken up after a semester, but Riley and Kyle remained friends. He’d graduated last month, but was taking summer classes toward his masters in communication. He was a computer genius, as far as Riley was concerned, and she didn’t know why he hadn’t gone into the field. She’d asked—often—but he’d never given her a straight answer.
“One hour,” Kyle said. “I need my beauty sleep.”
She snorted a laugh, then explained what she wanted. “I have a list of all mental health facilities, public and private, within a seventy-mile radius of Hartford, Connecticut.” She’d narrowed the list down by putting herself in Bachman’s shoes—if he was truly having difficulty adjusting to college, then he would want to be closer to home. That was her guess. According to all of Max’s notes, he was still close to his mother. There would be a comfort there, she thought. If her idea didn’t pan out, she had a second list of facilities closer to Boston.
“I need to find out if someone was a patient there, but patient records are confidential. So the best thing is to narrow down to the type of facility, and then when I get a workable list—under ten—to run a search for disgruntled employees or someone on the staff who might talk.”
“Is this about Adam Bachman?”
“That’s
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