Laurel looked at the phone to find a picture of black dahlias in the shape of a heart on a front stoop. “Who did you think did this?”
Christine shrugged. “I didn’t think much about it. Just that maybe a delivery person had left them or a secret admirer or something like that. I truly didn’t have time to worry about it, so I didn’t. Until I saw the news this morning.” She wore a light green suit with a white shell, and her jewelry was gold and understated. “Were these flowers left by the killer?”
“Perhaps.” Laurel quickly forwarded the photo to herself. “Do you have a security system at your home?”
“No. I’ve been meaning to get one but just haven’t had the chance. I’ve lived in the same house for ten years, and it’s in a nice neighborhood with many five acre lots. There has never been a problem in Forest Ridge, I don’t think.” Christine brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m concerned. What should I do?”
Laurel thought through the options. Forest Ridge was the same high-end subdivision where Abigail lived in a far corner of Genesis Valley. Now thatwasn’ta coincidence. She needed Huck’s team to hurry through the security videos they’d gotten from other residents. “We should get you to a safe house. You mentioned you had a long shift and that you’re a doctor. What is your area of practice?”
“I’m the head of cardiology at the Pacific Western Hospital outside of Seattle,” Christine said. “My specialty is interventional cardiology, but it seems I spend more time with paperwork now than I did before I was promoted.”
Walter’s eyebrows lifted. “Pac-Western is one of the best heart hospitals in the country.” He took one of the seats.
Christine nodded. “We are, and I’m busy. Apparently too busy to realize I’m being stalked.” She crossed her legs, showing black high heels. How had the woman walked across the parking lot in those shoes? “I did notice that pictures of friends in my office at the hospital had been rearranged, but I figured the cleaning staff had done so.”
Laurel stiffened. “How about inside your home? Anything odd?”
Christine chewed on her muted pink lipstick. “Maybe? I couldn’t find my light pink bra the other day, but I assumed the dryer had eaten it or something. I should go through the house and check, shouldn’t I.” She said it as a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.” Laurel’s heartbeat ticked up. “All the more reason to put you in a safe house, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Christine blanched. “I’m willing to stay in a safe house, but I’d still need to go to work.”
“Can you take a sabbatical?” Walter asked. “This is serious, and you’re in danger.”
Christine looked down at her phone, which lay innocuously on the table. “Yes, I suppose I could. I wouldn’t mind a reprieve, and I have so much paperwork to catch up on. I could do that remotely. In fact, I might like the break from dealing with . . . people.”
Walter grinned. “I understand that.” His jowls moved as he talked, and it looked like his hair had thinned. How sick had he been?
“Good.” Snow melted off Laurel’s boots to the floor. “Do you have any sort of relationship with Dr. Sharon Lamber, Dr. Charlene Rox, or Dr. Abigail Caine?”
Christine blew out air. “Sounds like a lot of female doctors.” She rubbed her ear. “I do not know Sharon Lamber or Abigail Caine, but Charlene Rox had privileges at our hospital and I met her a few times.”
Laurel straightened. Dr. Rox was a psychiatrist, so it made sense she had privileges. “Did she have an office at the hospital?”
Christine shrugged. “I assume so. I could find out for you, if you like. I believe she only consulted periodically at the hospital and actually had her own practice somewhere else. As such, she probably shared an office or a workspace at Pac-Western.”
“We’re still trying to get a feel for her life before she, ah, left work,” Walter said.
“Before she fled this killer.” Christine paled and her hand shook when she reached for her phone. “I’ll make sure you have access to anywhere Dr. Rox worked at the hospital.” She fired off a quick text.
Walter patted her arm. “I can see that you’re terrified, but you don’t need to be. We’ll keep you safe.” He looked at Laurel, his hangdog eyes earnest. “Right, boss?” At Laurel’s nod, he continued. “How about we go to your place and pack a bag, and then I’ll drive you to the FBI office in Seattle? We’ll arrange for a safe house for you there, and we’ll make sure nobody follows us. All right?”
Christine nodded. “That would be nice. Thank you.” She wiped off her lipstick. A nervous tic?
Laurel tilted her head. “Dr. Abigail Caine lives in the same subdivision as you.”
“Is she dead as well?” Christine whispered.
“No,” Laurel said.
Christine exhaled slowly as if trying to control her breathing. “Oh. I’m not home much and I don’t know many of the people who live there. Our lots are large and we don’t have block parties or anything like that. Most of my life takes place at work.”
Laurel had lived many years just like that. In fact, back in DC, she didn’t know most of her neighbors. “I understand.” She pushed back her chair and stood as the other two did the same. “Walter will take you home to gather your belongings right now, and by the time you two reach Seattle, we’ll have a plan in place.” She’d make that call herself.
“Thank you.” Christine stood.
Laurel paused by the doorway. “Do you know Tommy Bearing, by any chance?”
