Viv looked up and gave a small smile. Laurel shot her one final look. They would certainly talk about this. Soon.
They moved to the clean room next to find positive air pressure and sealed cabinets. Two techs inside were suited up, moving vials into insulated trays. Laurel watched them for a full minute before turning to Bertra. “I want a list of every compound those two are handling, and I want the current batch numbers cross-referenced with export logs, and I expect the evidence team to secure samples.”
“Your warrant doesn’t include samples, and our attorneys will fight you under trade secret law,” Bertra said.
Most likely. “Show us the rest of the area, and then let’s retire to a conference room. I’d like to interview you,” Laurel said.
They continued the walk lab to lab, finding each one more specialized. Clean rooms. Observation bays. Testing suites with treadmills and biometric scanners.
Laurel continued walking. “When did your last internal audit take place?”
“Two months ago.”
Laurel couldn’t read the woman. “Results?”
“Standard issues. Some chemical waste mislabeling. Nothing unusual.”
Walter focused on her. “Please provide the report along with the other requested data. You have one week, according to the warrant.”
Bertra gave him a sidelong glance. “One week? That’s generous. But I’m sure you’re very reasonable . . . when you want to be.”
Walter cleared his throat and looked straight ahead.
They returned to the main hallway, where a security guard passed with a clipboard, nodded, and moved on.
Laurel stared at her. “We’ll need your full internal calendar for the next ten days. Meetings. Deliveries. Anything marked as restricted access.”
“Of course.” Bertra gestured them into a high-end conference room outside of the labs. One secure and without windows. “I’ll include that with all of the data you wish for me to collect. This is going to take some time.”
Laurel drew out a chair as the other two did the same. “Do any of your studies create lesions on the brain?”
“Of course not,” Bertra said.
“Interesting.” Laurel pulled a folder from her satchel and tossed pictures onto the smooth marble table. “Dr. Miriam Liu. Tyler Griggs. Mark Bitterson. Melissa Palmtree. All of these people had lesions on their brains. We don’t know about Larry Scott because he was cremated.”
Bertra took a moment too long before responding. “Dr. Liu died in a car accident, and Melissa Palmtree fell down a staircase and broke her neck. I heard that Larry Scott killed himself.” She frowned, looking up. “Lesions? What lesions?”
“Melissa’s body was exhumed last week,” Laurel said. “Toxicology revealed chemical traces not explained by recreational use or prescription medication. There were similarities to taxane derivatives discovered.”
“That’s—” Bertra stopped herself. “I’d need to see that report.” The woman paled.
Was she exhibiting surprise or fear? Laurel wasn’t sure. “Tell me about Mark Bitterson and Tyler Griggs.”
Bertra shook her head. “I’ve never heard of either of those people.”
“Tyler Griggs was a conspiracy podcaster who met with Melissa Palmtree on the night of her death. My guess is that she had something of import to tell him. How about you avoid the federal death penalty and get out ahead of this?” Walter suggested nicely.
Bertra glanced at her phone. “I’ve already called in my lawyer. He should be here soon.”
“You’re not in custody and can leave anytime,” Laurel noted. “For now, how about you tell us about Elk Hollow Detective Robertson?”
Bertra blinked and a light pink filtered beneath her cheekbones. “Who?”
“Detective Joshua Robertson. He worked security here and functioned as a courier between Melissa Palmtree and Mark Bitterson, who I believe secured stolen yew tree compounds for you.” It was a guess and a bluff, but Laurel needed answers.
“A security guard isn’t something I’d be looped in on,” Bertra said. “Again—logistics. And as for your accusation, we don’t utilize stolen samples of anything. You’ll find that to be true once you go through the mountainous amount of documents you’ve requested.”
Her phone buzzed and she read the screen. She smiled, then glanced at Walter. “Excellent. Our attorney is on his way down. I hope he’s as charming as your partner here.”
