Lynda sighed impatiently but eased down on a big rock of her own. “He worries too much. This isn’t the first time my specialist has changed my medication. Jerald frets every time as if it’s the end of the world.”
Sounded serious to Sarah, since she didn’t take Jerald Pope as one to worry unnecessarily. Would a man who cared so for his wife and daughter be capable of such heinous murders? Others had. Sarah shook off the thought, turned her full attention on Lynda Pope. “If you don’t mind my asking, why do you need medication?”
“It’s nothing. Lots of women are affected.” Lynda tugged on the Converses. “Mitral valve prolapse,” she explained. “I was diagnosed a couple of years ago. It’s a little more complicated than the usual case. I’ve been on several different medications over the years, but I’m fine. Really. It flares up now and again, particularly if I’m under stress.”
Heart condition. Sarah rode out the adrenaline charge, careful not to let the tension show. “What do they give you for that?”
“Last time it was one of those beta-blockers that’s been around forever. This time something new.” Lynda frowned. “I can’t recall the name of it. I just got it two days ago. I haven’t even filled the prescription yet.” Her gaze collided with Sarah’s. “Don’t say anything. Jerald would not be pleased if he knew I’d left Bangor without getting it filled.”
“Bangor?” Sarah controlled her breathing though her heart rate had sped up.
“That’s where I go to see my specialist.”
“A friend of mine takes beta-blockers,” Sarah lied. “Which one do you take?”
Lynda named the drug.
Anticipation seared through Sarah. It was the same one found in Alicia Appleton’s tox screen. Sarah nodded then stood, couldn’t wait to get started. The sooner they covered their sector, the sooner she could find Kale. “You wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve checked things out.”
Lynda waved her off. “No hurry. I’ll be waiting.”
Sarah resisted the impulse to reach for her cell and call Kale with the news about Lynda Pope’s medication. Sarah had to do this right. Polly could be here ...
As Sarah turned her back, the hair on her neck lifted. Was she turning her back on a killer?
Or a killer’s wife?
34
Public Safety Office, 9:30 p.m.
Kale was the last to return from the search. He parked on the street and trudged toward the front entrance.
“Mr. Conner!”
Three reporters, cameramen on their heels, rushed toward him.
He glared at each one. “Don’t even think about it.”
As he pushed past them, headed for the door, one shouted at his back, “How does it feel to know your sister could be the next victim?”
Kale whipped around, charged up to the guy, and decked him. Shouts accompanied the crowd’s withdrawal.
“Come on, Kale.”
Two deputies dragged him inside.
“What’d you come that way for?” Charles Collins asked. “You knew they were out there.”
Kale glared at the deputy, shook loose of the man’s hold. “Leave me alone.”
“Sure, man.”
Both deputies backed off.
Kale headed for the chief’s office. Every damned body in his path stopped and stared. He didn’t want to hear their words of sympathy. He didn’t want anything but to find his sister. In the chief’s office, the mayor and the fed were waiting.
The grim expression on the chief’s as well as the mayor’s face brought him up short.
