Chapter Thirty-One
Dr. Keyes managed to put up enough of a stink that he didn’t arrive at Laurel’s office until early afternoon, accompanied by his attorney. The doctor was in his mid-forties with blondish-gray hair, understanding blue eyes, and a square jaw. He wore a button-down shirt and slacks with a Rolex on one wrist. Laurel measured him to be around six feet tall and two hundred pounds with a lithe physique.
The lawyer appeared to be a decade older with pure gray hair, steel blue eyes, and a five-thousand-dollar suit.
Laurel sat across from the doctor while Huck sat across from the lawyer, file folders in front of them. The two men eyed each other like adversaries in a boxing match, while Dr. Keyes kept his gaze on Laurel.
“Thank you for coming in to speak with us today,” Laurel said.
The doctor’s smile held amusement. “The state police didn’t give me much of a choice.” He settled more comfortably in his chair. “Although, now I’m here, I can say that I’m happy about that. I know this is business, but I have to say that you’re the most intriguing-looking woman I’ve ever seen. A heterochromia in already heterochromatic eyes is rare to a degree I’m afraid I can’t quantify.” He leaned closer, his gaze seeking. “Both the blue and the green shades have an intensity that’s rare in and of themselves. Just lovely.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Laurel waited to see what he’d say next.
“And your hair color. I’ve never seen any shade like it. Not red, not black, not brown . . .” He palmed the table. “Beautiful.”
She smiled and let him continue trying to impress her. “That’s kind of you. Most people think I’m strange.”
The left side of his mouth lifted. “Not strange. No. Strong. Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.”
“John Ray,” she murmured.
He sat back, surprise lighting his eyes. “Yes. John Ray. You’ve read him?”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t,” Huck said. “I doubt he applies to this case.”
Dr. Keyes barely cast Huck a glance. “He was an English naturalist who spoke wisdom three hundred years ago. There aren’t many FBI agents, I dare say, who would’ve recognized his words.”
“Agent Snow is a unicorn,” Huck said dryly. “How about we return to this century and you tell us where you’ve been the last couple of days, Dr. Keyes.” It wasn’t posed as a question.
The doctor’s gaze wandered over Laurel’s face. “I was at my cabin taking some time for myself. Life has been difficult lately.”
“Because Sharon Lamber dumped you?” Huck asked. “Or because she was brutally murdered?”
“Both.” The doctor clucked his tongue. He shrugged, looking charming again. “I cared very much for her, but I do understand her desire to give her marriage another try. The rejection hurt more than I expected, and then she was killed. Needless to say, I was having trouble concentrating at work, so I headed up to my cabin to gather my thoughts and read.” He leaned forward. “Some Orwell, some Kierkegaard, and some Steve Berry.”
Huck drew a photograph from his file folder. “Did you know Sharon set up a camera in her bedroom?”
Dr. Keyes jerked and looked down at the picture that showed the two of them engaged in sex. “Holy—No.” He looked closer. “Where was the camera?”
“Based on the angle, it was located in the small bookcase by the door,” Laurel said, picturing the room in her mind. “It wasn’t present when we searched. Do you have any idea where it might be?”
“No.” He pushed the picture away. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t let these get out. How unseemly.” Then he turned to his lawyer. “Can we get all of those?”
“No,” Huck answered for the man. “Not during an active investigation. Did you know that Sharon was having relations with multiple men?”
The doctor sighed. “No, but it doesn’t surprise me. She was carefree and curious, and she had an abundance of energy and life inside her. I don’t think she ever meant to settle down with anybody, even her husband.” He looked again at Laurel. “I considered her unique. Now I can see that I was wrong.”
Laurel didn’t smile this time. It was time to change tactics. “I think she rejected you and that infuriated you. That you became almost as angry as you were when Christine Franklin stole the job you wanted.”
He reared back at the attack. “I was happy for Christine.”
“So she’s smarter than you? Or just a better leader?” Laurel pressed.
His smile was slow. “She’s neither, but what are you going to do? She’s a woman, and the hospital needed one in a leadership role. Sometimes life is that simple.”
“Do you have a problem with women in leadership roles?” Laurel asked.
