Colton 911--Suspect Under Siege Page 7

  “Is something wrong?”

  “My boss has been murdered.” Her voice wobbled. “And I think I’m a suspect.”

  “Have the police said that?” He was reaching for his jacket and car keys as he spoke.

  “No, but the detective who came around here made a comment about how Evan and I had a bad relationship. I told him I wasn’t prepared to speak to him until I’d consulted my attorney.” He heard her indrawn breath. “All I could think of was that I needed to call you.”

  “That was the right thing to do. I’m on my way over.”

  Before he left the building, Griffin arranged for his receptionist, Martha, to call his colleagues at the forthcoming meeting and offer his apologies. As he headed out to his car, he called Riley.

  “Dr. Evan Hardin of Danvers University has been murdered.”

  “What? Isn’t he Abigail Matthews’s boss?” Riley sounded as shocked as Griffin felt. “What the hell is going on?”

  “That’s where I hope you can help me out. I don’t have any information. Can you check the news channels, websites and social media to see what you can find out, then get back to me?”

  “Leave it with me.”

  Griffin ended the call as he reached his vehicle. Riley’s question was a perfect summary of his own thoughts. What the hell was going on? Could Abigail have killed her boss? His brain refused to process that possibility. As an attorney, he should be able to keep an open mind. As a man...? No, unless he was presented with undeniable proof, he wasn’t going there.

  When he arrived at Abigail’s house, he was pleased to see her looking pale but calm. They went through to the den, where Maya was playing on the rug with a stack of colored wooden blocks. When she saw Griffin, she waved an aimless hand, but returned to her game.

  “Don’t be fooled into thinking she’ll stay there,” Abigail said. “She doesn’t crawl, but she wriggles on her stomach. If I look away, she can be across the room in seconds.”

  “She’s gorgeous.” They watched the little girl together for a few seconds. “You are very lucky to have each other.”

  She nodded. “And I intend to keep it that way.”

  Although he was glad to see her fighting spirit was intact, Griffin noticed the tightness in her jaw muscles. He wanted to take that tension away.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “A detective from the GRPD came to see me just before eight o’clock this morning. He told me that Evan—Dr. Hardin—had been murdered. He was found in his office early this morning but they think he was killed yesterday evening. The police officer, a Detective Iglesias, said he’d been given information that Evan and I had a bad argument. That was when I told him that I wanted to speak to my attorney before I answered any questions.”

  “I know Emmanuel Iglesias,” Griffin said. “He can be trusted to conduct a fair inquiry.”

  “But someone has already influenced his judgment of me,” Abigail pointed out. “The way he spoke made it sound like he’d been told I was guilty of personally using a banned substance.”

  “Then we need to make sure he is given the facts instead of hearsay. Although—” Griffin frowned as a thought occurred to him. “If Evan’s body was only found this morning, and Detective Iglesias was here by eight o’clock, the person who talked to him about you must have done it very quickly.”

  “What do you mean exactly?” Abigail asked.

  “Think about it. I’m not sure how early your building is opened, but presumably the body was found by a cleaner or maintenance worker. That person would have called the police. A crime scene investigation team would then have arrived at Evan’s office and Emmanuel Iglesias must have joined them as soon as he could. It gives a very short time frame for someone to contact him with information about you. How did anyone even know that Evan was dead?”

  “You’re right. Unless it was someone in the building,” Abigail suggested. “Scientific research isn’t a nine-to-five job, so people are around early in the morning. If anyone saw the activity in Evan’s office and found out what was going on, they could have approached Detective Iglesias with information.”

  “But why were they in such a hurry? The police will question everyone in time.” Griffin stooped to pick up some of Maya’s blocks that were beyond her reach. As soon as he handed them to her, the baby threw them away again. “No, someone was very keen to get your name out there from the start. They wanted the police to see you as a suspect even before the investigation started.”

  She appeared lost in thought for a few seconds. “Do you think that person was trying to frame me?”

  “I do. And we have to consider that it could be the same person who introduced the illegal compound into your research program in order to sabotage your career.”

  “But surely—” She lifted a hand to her throat. “How far would a person go to make me look bad?”

  “Were you going to say that no one would have killed Evan Hardin in order to place the blame on you?” She nodded. “I’m not so sure.”

  Abigail sat down abruptly on one of the two small sofas. “This can’t be happening.” The color had drained from her cheeks and she raised scared eyes to his face. “How could anyone hate me that much?”

  Griffin went to sit next to her. Placing an arm around her shoulders, he drew her close and she immediately nestled against his side.

  “You have to remember that this is not about anything you’ve done wrong. The reason behind what’s going on here could be something you are completely unaware of. Until we know the identity of the person behind this, we won’t know why they’re focusing on you. Can you think of anyone who would do this?”

  “I don’t think I’m going to win any popularity contests right now. There are plenty of people out there who wouldn’t rush to help me up if I fell in the street. But this?” She shook her head. “Tampering with a drug trial is bad enough. Killing my boss to make me look bad? I can’t even begin to comprehend that.”

  “You said you’d been threatened by a former participant?”

  She lifted her head, appearing momentarily confused. “Ryan Thorne? He’s the son of a former Mem10 trial participant. Ryan withdrew his dad from the program when news about RevitaYou broke. He confronted me in the university parking lot yesterday before I met with Evan.”

  “What did he say exactly?” Griffin asked.

  “He repeated the usual allegations about my involvement in RevitaYou. He’s said in the past that there’s no way I’m not part of it and how I’m the worst doctor in the world for creating such a terrible drug. Then he said he’d spoken with some other families who had withdrawn participants from the program. He said I’d get what was coming.”

  “Those were his exact words?”

  She nodded. “I thought he meant I’d lose my job, or maybe be prosecuted.”

  “How many people withdrew from the Mem10 trial when they heard about RevitaYou?”

  “Five.” She bit her lip. “We started with fifteen people involved in the trial. But after your family started putting out social media blasts about the dangers of RevitaYou, a third left the program.”

  “I’m sorry. We didn’t foresee the impact it would have on the work you were doing at Danvers University.”

  “How could you? And you needed a way to get the word out fast so that people stopped taking those dangerous vitamins,” Abigail said. “I’m glad you acted quickly. I hope I’m wrong, but RevitaYou could prove even deadlier than anyone expected. Do you really believe that Ryan Thorne’s threats could be connected to Evan’s murder?”

  “Believe me, having grown up in the Colton household, and doing what I do, my eyes have been opened to the best and worst of what people are capable of. And sometimes the most unlikely things can trigger a disproportionate and unpredictable response.” Privately, Griffin could picture several situations in which an irate relative of
a participant might turn his, or her, anger against Abigail’s boss. Possibly Dr. Hardin had refused to discuss the Anthrosyne investigation, or listen to a complaint against Abigail, and the situation had gotten out of hand. He didn’t want to distress her further by speculating. “I want to find out who was so eager to talk to the police immediately after the murder. If it was Ryan Thorne, or someone else whose relative is involved, they have some explaining to do.”

  * * *

  Abigail was still nervous when Detective Iglesias returned. But with Griffin at her side she felt stronger and more prepared to face him.

  “Griffin.” The police officer nodded as he took a seat in the kitchen. Since Maya was sleeping in the den, Abigail had switched the baby monitor on. Now and then, faint sounds of snoring reached them. “Riley has already been in touch, but I told him I don’t have much information about this case.”

  “Who else have you interviewed?” Griffin asked, as the three of them sat at the table.

  “Dr. Matthews is the first person I’ve spoken to in connection with this murder.” There was a definite change in the detective’s manner. With Griffin he seemed slightly defensive, as though conscious that he would be required to explain his actions.

  “And what are your reasons for questioning her first? We know she wasn’t the last person to see Dr. Hardin alive,” Griffin pointed out. “Dr. Jenna Avery entered his office immediately after Abigail. And, since that was early yesterday morning, it seems unlikely that he didn’t speak to anyone else during the course of the day.”

  Emmanuel rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “Look, I’m not making any judgments here. But I was told that Dr. Matthews and Dr. Hardin didn’t have a good relationship after a recent incident. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check that out.”

  “Ah, yes.” As Griffin spoke, Abigail was seeing a different side to his character. She could picture him in a courtroom, tearing holes in the opposing side’s argument. “The information you received straight after the doctor was killed. Who told you about that?”

  Emmanuel looked surprised. “It was a message that was left for me at the university reception desk. I don’t know who it was from.”

  “And you’re happy to act on an anonymous note?” Griffin shot back angrily. “Is that how the GRPD operates these days?”

  “Hey.” Emmanuel was clearly riled. “I told you I wasn’t reaching any conclusions here. This is a starting point. That’s all.”

  “It’s okay.” Before Griffin could continue, Abigail placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll explain the situation to Detective Iglesias. I have plenty of emails from Evan to back up my story. They show that our relationship was a good one.”

  “Okay.” Griffin’s expression lightened slightly, but, as he looked at Emmanuel, she could tell he still wasn’t happy. “But I want you to do everything you can to find out who sent that note.”

  The detective held up his hands. “I’ll try but it won’t be easy.”

  “Then I want it on the record that my client is freely helping the police despite being questioned on the strength of one very dubious piece of evidence.”

  “Your client?” Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. “You’re practicing criminal law now?” Griffin gave him a frosty look. “Okay. I get the message. Attempts at humor will not be appreciated.”

  “Dr. Hardin and I did not have a difficult relationship,” Abigail said. “On the contrary, we had worked well together for a number of years. I am in charge of one of Evan’s research programs. It’s a series of clinical trials to test efficacy of a new memory boosting over-the-counter supplement called Mem10. My paternal grandmother died from complications from Alzheimer’s and this field has always been dear to my heart.”

  She bowed her head. This was the hard part and she still couldn’t believe she was having to explain this to anyone, let alone a police officer.

  “I recently learned that my bid to adopt my foster daughter has been stalled. That was when I discovered I was being investigated over an allegation that I’d used an illegal enhancement compound, a designer, non-FDA-approved drug called Anthrosyne, to boost some of my participants’ memories and to gain recognition for my work. The allegation was false, someone is trying to frame me. I have no idea who would do that, or why, but yesterday morning, Evan suspended me from my job pending an internal investigation.”

  “How did you feel about that?” Emmanuel asked.

  “How do you think she felt?” Griffin snapped. “How would you feel if you were suspended from the job you loved over something you didn’t do?”

  “I have to ask,” Emmanuel said. “You know that.”

  Although he continued to scowl, Griffin held up his hands in a reluctant gesture of surrender.

  “I was devastated but I understood Evan’s position,” Abigail said. “Neither of us would ever do anything to jeopardize the success of the program.”

  Emmanuel made a few notes before looking up. “What will happen to the Anthrosyne investigation now that Dr. Hardin is dead?”

  “I don’t understand.” Abigail regarded him in confusion. “I expect another of the Danvers University leadership team members will take over. Why?”

  “Just wondering.” He tapped his pen on the table. “So the investigation doesn’t go away because the guy leading it is dead?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I think what Emmanuel is getting at is that, in terms of the Anthrosyne investigation, you had nothing to gain from killing your boss.” For the first time, Griffin looked at the police officer with approval.

  “I had nothing to gain in any terms.” She wanted the words to be forceful, but her voice shook. “I am not a killer.”

  “Dr. Matthews, I am not suggesting that you are—”

  Griffin cut across the detective’s explanation. “Do you have a precise time of death?”

  “The coroner has estimated that Dr. Hardin was killed between four and six yesterday evening. Until he completes his examination, we won’t have anything more accurate,” Emmanuel said. “He lived alone, so no one reported him missing. Unfortunately, his killer was in the building when he was working there. Why do you ask?”

  “Just that Abigail was at Colton Investigations yesterday afternoon and I was here with her until after midnight last night. If her boss had been murdered around either of those times, I’d have been able to provide an alibi.” As Griffin spoke, the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?” he asked Abigail.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  Emmanuel checked his cell phone. “It’s one of my colleagues. Some new evidence has come to light.”

  “Good,” Griffin said. “The sooner you clear Abigail’s name the better.”

  When Abigail went to the door, the second police officer introduced himself as Detective Daniel Lopez. He accompanied her into the kitchen and nodded briefly to Griffin before turning to Emmanuel. “We found something under Dr. Hardin’s desk. It was missed in the initial search, but the CSI team recovered it when they conducted a more detailed examination of the murder scene.”

  He held up a plastic evidence bag containing a gold charm bracelet with the initials A and M.

  “Is this yours, Dr. Matthews?” Emmanuel asked.

  Abigail turned to look at Griffin, her eyes widening as the implications of what she was seeing hit her. “Yes. I lost it at work about a week ago.”

  Chapter 6

  When the two detectives left, Griffin accompanied them to the door. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job—”

  “Whenever anyone says those words, they always follow them up by telling us how to do our job.” Emmanuel exchanged a weary look with his colleague.

  “Don’t you think it was odd that the bracelet was missed on the first search?”

  Daniel Lopez bristled. “Are you implying that our CSI team didn’t do their job properly?�
��

  “No. I’m going one step further than that and suggesting that someone is trying to frame Abigail Matthews.” Griffin fought to keep his anger under control. “She hasn’t told you this, but she was threatened by the son of a former trial subject yesterday. He told her she’d get what was coming. His name is Ryan Thorne.”

  “We’ll check him out,” Emmanuel said. “But, right now, Dr. Matthews still looks like our chief suspect.”

  “You don’t have enough to charge her.” Griffin was certain of that. An anonymous note and an item of jewelry that placed Abigail in Dr. Hardin’s office at some point? Any decent defense lawyer would get the case thrown out within minutes.

  “Not yet. When we do, we’ll be back.” It sounded a lot like a threat.

  “Check the security footage in and around Dr. Hardin’s office yesterday evening and this morning, if you haven’t already.” To hell with not telling them how to do their jobs. “Was Abigail Matthews in the Danvers University building? And find out if anyone went into his office after the first search and before the second one.”

  Neither detective replied but he could see them processing those instructions.

  “Also, Abigail was at the CI headquarters with my family yesterday. My brother and sisters can vouch for that. She left in the middle of the time period during which you’re suggesting Dr. Hardin was killed. If she crossed town to kill him, she’d have hit the rush hour traffic. When you have an exact time of death, you might want to check out the times to see if she could have done it within the time available. And, as I’ve said, I was with her and Maya at her house until after midnight.”

  Griffin watched the two men walk across the small patch of lawn to their vehicles before he returned to the house. When he reached the kitchen, Abigail had her head in her hands and her slender shoulders were shaking.

  Moving swiftly to her side, he drew her to her feet and held her tight against him. His intention had been to convey his belief in her and reassure her that he would be there for her during this fight. But, as he cradled her head to his chest with one hand and placed the other in the small of her back, a different feeling took hold.