Page 32 of Juan

Clara nodded. “But we decided to show up at a few over the past year.” She paused. “Not that there aren’t some good folks out there, but frankly, I’d rather spend my time covered in honey near an anthill.”

Beside him, Amber’s lips twitched. It was hard not to like the pair. He hoped that whatever happened next, they would stay a part of their lives.

Adrian exhaled. “We admit, it’s possible that we’re seeing what we want to see, but it’s not just the money that makes all these stand out.” She gestured to the photos.

“What else?” Callie asked.

“The suicides, the bank robbery, the car accidents? All of them were out of character for the deceased if you talk to anyone other than the person who benefited,” Adrian said. “Why rob a bank when you have millions at your disposal? The woman who fell—or jumped—from the bridge was afraid of heights, and the man who shot himself—one of the suicides—wasn’t a hunter. Not to mention, he used an antique rifle from the 1800s. Those require different handling, and there are easier ways to do the job if that was his intent. The other suicide, well, she slit her wrists, but even I know Maggie Rose fainted at the sight of blood.”

“And the car accidents all happened on sparsely traveled roads. Now, Virginia isn’t lacking in back roads, but why would any of these people be driving on them? Let alone in their fancy cars? They aren’t farmers, and while some own swaths of land, the accidents didn’t happen on the way to their country properties.”

“We’ll grant you that the one who died in her sleep and the one who died in the fire might not be related, but that seemed a stretch when considering everything else,” Adrian finished.

Leo frowned. “I don’t know if it means anything, but it’s interesting that most of the victims—if we’re calling them that—except the bank robber, weren’t processed quickly. Other than him, the soonest an autopsy occurred was thirty-six hours after the time of death. A few are longer than that based on how long it took them to find the body.”

“Same ME?” Juan asked.

Leo scanned the files on his screen, then shook his head. “Seven of the eleven were the same. Those deaths happened in the same county, and it looks as though there’s only one ME. Masterson’s mother’s death, and three of the four car accidents, including Beatrice Collier’s husband, happened in different jurisdictions.”

“Who’s the ME who did the seven?” Amber asked.

“Dr. Georgia Lansing,” Leo replied.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amber and Adrian share a look. “What?” Juan asked.

“She was one of the many women Anthony had an affair with,” Amber replied.

“She was also fired from two prior jobs for dereliction of duty,” Adrian added. “She failed to catch diagnoses, and while doctors aren’t infallible, in both cases, she was found negligent. She didn’t perform even the most basic of tests. By the time the patients got second opinions, the diseases were so far progressed, one died and the other spent two years in treatment.”

“How’d she become a medical examiner?” Amber asked.

Adrian shook her head. “Probably figured she couldn’t get a job anywhere else as a pathologist, so applied for an ME residency. Doesn’t matter as much if she cuts corners on an autopsy.” Adrian paused, then smiled. “I have to admit, for run-of-the-mill stuff, that’s generally true. But when it matters, it matters.”

“How’d she meet Anthony?” Juan asked, hating having to dredge all this up.

“He sits on the hospital board that houses the county morgue,” Amber said. “One of the many pieces of leverage he had to keep what he did to me under wraps. Not that I went to the hospital that frequently.”

“I don’t advocate for killing people, but I wouldn’t be upset if he died. Accidentally or otherwise,” Clara said, echoing Juan’s earlier thoughts and drawing a chuckle from several folks in the room.

“You are not alone,” he muttered, drawing a wink of approval from the woman.

“If he is behind all this, how do we figure it out?” Amber asked.

“Does he have alibis for the times of their deaths? Could he have caused the car accidents, set the fire, those sorts of things?” Stone asked, then added, “Although that wouldn’t explain the bank robbery or Rolly Masterson’s mom. Those ones are weird.”

“They are definitely outliers,” Callie concurred. “I can check into his whereabouts during those time periods, although I doubt he’s the one who pulled the metaphorical trigger.”

“I agree,” Amber said. “He has too much self-preservation instinct to be directly involved. Indirectly, though, that’s a different story. For a number of reasons,” she murmured.

Juan hesitated, then asked, “A number of reasons?” As much as he loathed pulling Amber deeper into this conversation, no one in the room knew Anthony better.

Amber’s eyes fell to their entwined hands. After a beat, she took a breath and answered. “Yes. Remember, he’s a master manipulator. One who craves money and power and doesn’t give a crap who gets hurt. If he provides the means for other people to kill their relatives, at a cost, of course, he doesn’t get his hands dirty and he gets paid. But in addition to the financial benefit, he knows who actually caused the death—who committed the crime. And being the keeper of that secret is a form of power he wouldn’t be able to resist. It doesn’t make him any less guilty in the eyes of the law, but in his warped mind, he is less guilty. He’s not guilty at all.”

Juan grimaced. “A sort of, I gave the man the gun, but how he decided to use it is up to him, in the first place?” Amber nodded.

“And we all know the kind of power secrets can carry,” Mantis said, nodding.

“I’ll look into the money angle,” Callie said.