“Oh.” Deidre leaned over and kissed her forehead. “All right. Just keep the radio off, okay? That silly Rachel Raprenzi is all over this story, and she acts like she knows you.”
Laurel sighed. “Let’s worry about her later.”
Deidre nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll go home and check on the new teas that came in yesterday. I’ll bring you some in a few hours and read to you.”
“Thanks.” She could actually read to herself, but if that made her mother happy, all right. “Wait a sec, please. You said that the subscription service is going really well and you’re swamped. Are you looking to hire more help?”
“Actually, yes. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t even had a chance to place an ad. Why do you ask?” Deidre smoothed the blanket over Laurel’s legs.
“I know someone who’s looking for a job. She seems kind and she could use the benefits, I think. Her name is Taylor Tate and she has a son who needs a break. What do you think?”
“Fine by me. Text me her information and I’ll call her.” Deidre patted her knee. “Now get some sleep.”
When Deidre left, Laurel settled down for a nap and ended up counting ceiling tiles for about ten minutes instead.
“Hello?” Nester stood in the doorway with a legal notepad in his hand. “Are you up for a visit? I worked all night and have the results from Dr. Caine’s office and lab at the university.”
“Yes. Definitely yes.” It was killing Laurel that she hadn’t gotten to help serve the warrant the previous night, but she vaguely remembered Huck talking to her after the surgery and saying he’d take care of it. “Please tell me you found something.”
Nester loped inside, wearing jeans and a ratty T-shirt on his day off. Or rather, what should’ve been his day off.
“I’m sorry I’m having you work weekends during your first month with the team.” Just because she worked all the time didn’t mean her team shouldn’t have some time off.
A nurse rolled Walter in, seated in a wheelchair. “You get used to it,” he said, his voice still a little wheezy. “I heard you got shot, too.”
Laurel pushed the button to raise the head of her bed. “Yes, but I only took one bullet. You took three.”
Walter grinned, his thin hair wispy around his ears. He was still pale, but his eyes were clear. “I guess I win, then.” He looked at Nester, who drew up a yellow plastic chair. “Are we having a meeting?”
“Yes,” Laurel said. “Hopefully with interesting news.”
Nester looked down at the notepad. “I wish. The truth is that Dr. Caine kept meticulous records on each patient in each study, and as far as I can tell, the purpose was to investigate how or why they’d react in certain situations. I found no evidence that she tried to manipulate them or get them to act in any particular way.”
Laurel wondered if she’d gotten to the records in time. “She definitely influenced Jason Abbott. Did you find any sort of drugs? Psychedelic, opioids, and so on that could influence the subjects’ reactions?”
“No. There were vitamin B shots, which I’ve already had the lab confirm,” Nester said. “She recorded many of the sessions, and I’ve watched them. Didn’t see anything unusual, and all of the scenario videos she has on her computer seem just fine.”
“I have no doubt Abigail kept two sets of records,” Laurel muttered. Most of the research was probably acceptable.
Nester shook his head. “You can’t really think she created a serial killer just to get your attention. Just so you two could work together?”
“I don’t know,” Laurel admitted. “I think it’s possible.”
“If she’s as smart as I suspect, then we’ll never prove it,” Walter said.
The nurse returned. “That’s long enough, Walter.” She appeared to be in her early twenties and had pretty brown eyes.
Walter sighed. “Okay. I’ll be back later. Walk out with me, Nester. The boss needs some sleep, whether she agrees or not.” He kept talking as Nester took over for the nurse. “I’m thinking I need to get in shape once I’m out of here. How about we create an office health initiative?” Their voices trailed off.
Laurel closed her eyes and counted the stars in their constellations.
“I can tell that you’re not sleeping.” Abigail said.
Laurel opened her eyes. “I was counting stars.”
“Which ones?” Abigail strode into the room in blood-red heels, wearing a black dress.
“The Seven Sisters.” The cluster had always interested her.
