"With a lot of whiskey," Jack said.
She admonished him with her look. "That's not healthy, Deputy…”
"Donovan," Jack said.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. So many details right now. It’s hard to keep everything in my head."
"Understood."
"He took her purse," Liz said with a furrowed brow. "But it was an afterthought." She squinted, picturing the scene in her mind. "He dropped the cigarette when Miriam got out of her car. He approached, drew the pistol from a pocket in his hoodie, and fired twice before Miriam even had a chance to react.” She shivered. “He took a step away, then turned back, snatched the purse, and ran right through that gap in the hedges," she said, pointing. After a moment's consideration, she said, "This was an assassination."
I shared a look with JD, then asked Liz, "Can you think of anyone who wanted to harm Dr. Renick?"
Liz paused for a moment as she thought. "Well, I know that Miriam was going through a pretty contentious divorce."
I shared another look with Jack.
Liz asked, "Do you think her husband could have done this, or perhaps he hired someone?”
“You read my mind. Like I said, good detective.”
Liz blushed. "Maybe in another life, Deputy."
“I only met her husband once, but as I recall, he had a similar build to the assailant. The hoodie kept me from getting a good look at his face. But I think this guy was younger.” She frowned. “I can’t be sure.”
"So, we’re looking for someone fit and athletic.”
Liz nodded. "Yes. This guy was calm and cool about it. Matter of fact. Seemed professional. Or maybe I just watch too much TV."
I smiled. "It never hurts to be suspicious."
"See, that's what I’m talking about. The long-term effects of being suspicious of everyone. Does that affect your personal relationships? Do you have trust issues?" Before I could even answer, she said, "Of course you do." She read my uncomfortable expression. "Sorry. It's a bad habit. I tend to read people, dig into their psyche, their deepest, darkest fears and secrets. I just can't help myself. I find it fascinating."
I changed the subject. "Is there anyone else Miriam had issues with? Other tenants in the building? Disgruntled patients?"
My question sparked a thought. Liz said, "Miriam told me about one woman who was fixated on her. A patient. Developed an unhealthy attachment. Wanted to be friends socially. She would bring coffee and doughnuts. Gifts. Miriam said that she even showed up at the house uninvited once and wanted to chit-chat."
"Do you happen to know her name?"
"No. Of course not. That would be unethical to discuss private health information outside of a clinical setting.”
"What's wrong with two doctors having a chat over lunch about patients? I'm sure it happens all the time."
"As long as the data is kept anonymous, there's generally not a compliance issue.”
"So you have no idea who this patient with the unhealthy fixation might be?"
Liz hesitated for a moment. "I do know that Miriam dropped her as a patient and referred her to another therapist. I'm sure if you could subpoena her files, you might be able to compile a list of women who were recently referred out."
"Thank you," I said. "I need to get contact information from you. It would be best if you came down to the station and made a full statement." I dug into my pocket and handed her a card. "Please get in touch if you remember any other details."
She nodded, and we exchanged information.
Paris and her news crew had arrived on scene.
We searched for the cigarette butt and found dozens of contenders. It was a popular place for smokers. I told the forensic guys to collect them all. Maybe we could isolate some DNA, but if the shooter never took a drag, it was unlikely.
JD and I stepped inside the professional building and walked across the atrium to the elevators. The Florida sunshine spilled in through the skylights, and Koi fish swam in the pond. If you hung by the edge of the water long enough, they’d gather looking for food.
