Last to Die

TWENTY-NINE

WE SHOULD EVACUATE,” SAID SANSONE AS HE UNLOCKED THE SAFE in the curiosities room. He swung open the safe to reveal a handgun stored inside. Maura watched him swiftly load nine-millimeter bullets into the magazine, and was startled by his obvious familiarity with the weapon. She had never even seen him hold a gun before; clearly he was not only comfortable with the weapon but also prepared to use it. “If we wake up the kids now,” he said, “we could be on the road within ten minutes.”

“And where would we take them?” said Maura. “Outside those gates, we’re vulnerable. You’ve turned this castle into a fortress, Anthony. You have a security system, unbreachable doors.” And a gun, she thought, watching him slide the magazine into place. “Jane told us to batten down and wait till she gets here. That’s what we should do.”

“As secure as I’ve made this castle, we’re still a stationary target.”

“Safer inside than out there. Jane was very clear on the phone. Stay together. Stay in the building. Trust no one.”

He tucked the gun in his belt. “Let’s make one last perimeter check,” he said and left the curiosities room.

Nightfall had brought a new chill to the air, and as she followed him into the entrance hall, the temperature seemed to drop even more. She hugged herself as she watched him check the front door, as he scanned the electronic security panel and confirmed that the system was armed, all zones secure.

“Detective Rizzoli could have told us more on the phone,” Sansone said as he moved on to the dining hall where he inspected windows, tested locks. “We don’t know what the hell we’re fighting.”

“She said she wasn’t allowed to tell us more. We just have to do exactly what she told us.”

“Her judgment isn’t infallible.”

“Well, I trust her.”

“And you don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, one they both knew was true. He turned to face her, and she felt an unsettling thrill of attraction. But she saw too many shadows in his eyes, too many secrets. And she thought about the startling ease with which he’d handled the gun, yet another detail she had not known about him.

“I don’t even know who you are, Anthony,” she said.

“Someday,” he said with a faint smile, “maybe you’ll want to find out.”

They left the dining hall and moved on to the library. With most of the students and faculty gone, the castle was eerily silent, and at this late hour it was easy to believe that they were utterly alone. The last inhabitants of an abandoned citadel.

“Do you think you could ever learn to trust me, Maura?” he asked as he walked from window to window, a somber guardian moving through the gloom. “Or will there always be this tension between us?”

“You could start by being more open with me,” she said.

“We could both take that advice.” He paused. “You and Daniel Brophy. Are you still together?”

At the mention of Daniel’s name, she halted in her tracks. “Why do you ask?”

“You must have an answer.” He turned to her, the shadows from the overhanging alcove hiding his eyes.

“Love isn’t cut and dried, Anthony. It’s messy and it’s heartbreaking. Sometimes there are no endings.”

In the gloom, she could just make out his knowing smile. “Yet another reason you and I are alike. Beyond our personal tragedies, beyond the work we do. We’re both lonely,” he said softly.

In the silence of that library, the sudden ringing of the telephone was all the more startling. As he crossed the room to pick up the extension, she stood rooted to the spot, unsettled by what he’d just said. And shaken by the truth of it. Yes, we are lonely. Both of us.

“Dr. Isles is right here,” she heard him say into the phone.

Jane’s calling was Maura’s first thought. But when she took the receiver, it was the Maine medical examiner on the line.

“I just wondered if you ever got my message. Since I didn’t hear back from you,” said Dr. Emma Owen.

“You called? When?”

“Around dinnertime. I spoke to one of the teachers. Some grumpy-sounding guy.”

“That would be Dr. Pasquantonio.”

“That’s his name. I guess he forgot to tell you. I’m about to climb into bed, and I thought I’d give you another call, since you did ask me to expedite this.”

“Is this about the tox screen?”

“Yes. Now, I’ve got to ask you. Was Dr. Welliver really a shrink?”

“She was a clinical psychologist.”

“Well, she was doing a little mind bending on her own. The tox screen turned up lysergic acid diethylamide.”

Maura turned and stared at Sansone as she said, “That can’t be right.”

“We still have to confirm it with HPLC-fluorescence, but it looks like your Dr. Welliver was tripping out on LSD. Now, I know some shrinks consider it therapeutic. A way to open your mind to spiritual experiences, yada yada. But she was working in a school, for God’s sake. Dropping acid is not exactly role-model behavior.”

Maura stood very still, the phone pressed so tightly to her ear she could hear her own pulse. “That fall from the roof …”

“Very possibly a result of hallucinations. Or acute psychosis. You remember that CIA experiment years ago, when they gave some poor guy LSD and he jumped out the window? You can’t predict how a subject will react on the drug.”

Maura thought about the stray crystals on the bathroom floor, scattered when someone had emptied the sugar bowl into the toilet. Disposing of the evidence.

“… I’m going to have to reclassify this death as an accident. Not suicide,” said Dr. Owen. “Fall from a height after ingestion of hallucinogens.”

“LSD can be synthesized,” cut in Maura.

“Um, yeah. I suppose. Wasn’t it first isolated from some fungus grown on rye plants?”

And who knows more about plants than Professor David Pasquantonio?

“Oh my God,” Maura whispered.

“Is there a problem?”

“I have to go.” She hung up and turned to Sansone, who stood right beside her, his eyes filled with questions. “We can’t stay,” she said. “We have to get the children and leave now.”

“Why? Maura, what’s changed?”

“The killer,” she said. “He’s already inside the castle.”