Laurel blinked. It was rare to hear the question put so bluntly. “Sometimes I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel like anybody whocanstop monsters . . . should stop monsters.” The simple explanation allowed her to avoid delving into her own psyche.
Viv swallowed. “I get it. Is it true that most serial killers are men?”
“Yes, although there have been a few female serial killers,” Laurel said. “Aileen Wuornos is the one you hear the most about, although Amelia Dyer quite possibly murdered hundreds of children and was hanged in the late eighteen hundreds.”
Viv looked out the window. “Even so, it makes sense that most of the killers are men. Men suck.”
Laurel pursed her lips. Was this about a bad breakup? If so, Laurel wasn’t the person with whom to discuss it. “I actually haven’t figured men out. As a gender, I mean.”
“They’re baboons.” Viv turned back and grinned. “Have you ever been married?”
“No. You?”
Viv rolled her eyes. “Funny. My dad is a dick. Do you like yours?”
Laurel shrugged. “I never met him and have no idea who he is or who he was. My mother didn’t remember.”
“Huh. That kind of sucks.” Viv shook herself out of her funk and pushed the file folder closer. “I loved investigating people on the Internet and didn’t even feel like I was doing anything wrong, since I was helping you out. That guy Huck Rivers is seriously hot.”
Laurel hid a grin. “If you like that type. What did you find?”
Viv opened her laptop to show a vlog by a pretty woman of about twenty-five. “This is Rachel Raprenzi, and she’s a reporter with ULCT, an Internet news organization, in northern Oregon. I went back through several of her reports. Seems she was engaged to Huck Rivers for three months before the Broad River killer case started. From what I can tell, and I’m just guessing, Rachel reported a lot of things she wasn’t supposed to know, and then after the case was solved, she gave several interviews about Huck and how he was dealing with the situation after saving the congressman’s kid but not the other boy. Then that was it. No more reports about Huck at all.”
Laurel sipped her drink. “Sounds like Captain Rivers didn’t like being talked about.” Who did? She looked closer. Rachel Raprenzi had blue eyes, long blond hair, and twin dimples. Was that his type? Not that it mattered. “Good job, Viv.”
“Thanks.” The girl’s eyes gleamed. “Here’s one of the photos I found of him—shaven.”
Laurel looked at his hard-cut jaw. “I think I like the scruff on him.”
“Me too.” Viv laughed. “Also, Dr. Abigail Caine is fascinating. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Really?” Laurel flipped open the file folder. “What about her caught your attention?”
Viv took a long sip through her straw. “Her bio says she grew up in the western United States, but I couldn’t find any record of her.”
Laurel straightened. “She has a British accent.” Had the woman faked an accent for some reason? It was possible with a narcissistic personality disorder. Perhaps the professor had been playing games with Laurel.
“Sure,” Viv said. “Dr. Caine studied at Oxford, and I found some old pictures on a college website where she looked really young. But I couldn’t find much before that. All of that is hard to access, while her professional life is much easier to get.”
“What else did you dig up?” Laurel asked, curious.
“Well, she studied at different universities, taught at Harvard for a bit, and then took the job with Northern Washington Tech,” Viv said. “She’s on tenure track, whatever that means.” Her eyes lit up. “I love being a spy. Guess what else?”
Was Laurel supposed to answer? “Um, what?”
“Dr. Caine is loaded. Like richer than rich.” Viv took a deep drink of the smoothie before continuing. “I found an article from a pot magazine online. When marijuana was legalized in Washington State, she bought into a state-sanctioned marijuana growing operation only thirty miles from here. She doesn’t need to work ever again.”
“She requires a challenge for her mind,” Laurel mused. “Does she own the operation herself?”
“No.” Viv leaned forward and patted the top of the file folder. “I printed out the state documents for you but haven’t had time to really go through them. It looks like she helped to create an LLC called Deep Green Grower’s Company that’s taxed as an S corporation with two other people, John Govern and Robert Caine.”
Laurel looked down at the paper. “Robert Caine? Is he Abigail’s husband or a different relative?”
“Dunno.” Viv bounced on her seat. “I can’t believe how easy it was to find out stuff about her.”
Laurel nodded. “It’s easy and dangerous, these days. You did a great job, though.” Maybe Laurel could get one of the techs in DC to do a deeper dive on Dr. Abigail Caine. “Her degree in biochemistry would allow her to create her own strains of cannabis.” However, there was no professional reason for the philosophy degree. Abigail was a beguiling mystery, to be sure. “I’ll find out how she’s related to Robert Caine.” She needed to send an email with all of her requests later that day. Sometimes it took a while with the FBI.
“Maybe they were married before or something.” Viv sucked the remainder of her drink. “I couldn’t find anything on him or the other guy. I’ve never heard of John Govern.” She looked around. “You need a garbage can.”
