Page 79 of Accidental Murder
“May I take a look at Sara’s case files?”
Hillman regarded Kayla with suspicion.
“I’m investigating Sara’s suicide to see if it had anything to do with my sister’s death,” Kayla explained. “For closure, if you will.”
The justification seemed to appease the woman. Hillman tipped her head to where the file drawers had once stood. “As you can see, her files are gone. They didn’t belong to us. Each bioethicist is an independent contractor. Sara’s husband, bless him, came the day before yesterday to pick up her things.”
Kayla sagged. She’d hoped the woman had merely transferred Sara’s things to another location in the building.
“He packed up everything.” Hillman resumed dusting. “He didn’t want us to bother with the—” She sniffed the air. “Hmpf.Do you smell that?”
“Tobacco?”
“Indeed.” Hillman raised the Levolor blinds revealing a Starbuck’s cup perched on the windowsill. “Disgusting, if you ask me. People dousing their ratty habits in a cup of coffee.” She tossed the trash into the garbage can by the window. “I’ve got half a mind to grab that man by the nape of his neck and make him stop smoking this instant. The habit kills.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Poor Sara. How she loved her causes. I can’t imagine why she would kill herself.” Hillman dabbed at her eyes with an embroidered hankie. “Suicide of all things. Sui—” Her voice broke.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kayla said softly. “Tragic.” She kept quiet for a reverent moment before resuming her questioning. “Um, what about her computer? It belonged to the coalition. Is it still here somewhere, or did Mr. Simmons take it, too?”
“That prehistoric piece of junk? Ha! Not a chance. It’s sitting in the spare office. We needed to repaint this one.” The woman’s cheeks tinged pink as if embarrassed to admit she’d moved on with life so soon after Sara’s death.
“Could I see the computer?”
“Of course.”
Kayla followed the woman down a narrow hall. “Did anybody search the computer for a suicide note?”
“As a matter of fact, her husband brought in a specialist to check for that very thing. He came up empty. Mr. Simmons told me Sara must have deleted all of her files.”
“All?”
“Mm-hm.Sure you want to take a look?”
“Yes, please.” Kayla itched to dig inside the old warhorse, because no matter how often things were erased, ghosts remained.
“Something dark held her in its clutches, that’s for certain,” Hillman said.
“But you don’t know what.”
“The lack of information breaks my heart.” She sighed. “She and I were friends for more than twenty years. We met at a peace rally in the eighties.” She formed aVwith her fingers and offered a bittersweet smile. “The secrets one doesn’t tell a confidante eat at you, you know?” She opened a door.
The office they entered was spare: a desk, chair, computer, and printer. Plus another computer—Sara’s, on the floor in the corner. No plants. No artwork. One window.
“I should’ve seen the signs,” Hillman continued. “Sara wasn’t eating. Wasn’t sleeping. Her clothes had begun to hang on her. She . . . she . . .” She choked back a sob. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Battling her own tears, Kayla nudged the computer on the desk to one side and hoisted Sara’s bulky machine onto the desk. She hooked up its cords and cables. While the computer booted up, she pulled her toolkit from her backpack.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Kayla insertedthe thumb drive loaded with a hacking program into the USB hub of Sara’s computer and initiated it. After a short while, she was relieved to discover Sara had not overwritten the files she’d erased. Kayla could retrieve them all.
Icons began to appear alphabetically.
Hoping to uncover something about Bledsoe Research Institute, she browsed theBfiles but came up empty. She couldn’t find anything related to brain freeze, either.
UnderC,she found two files withCCin the heading. Hope swelled. Would she discover more about Sara’sCotton Candyproject? She opened the first, a document written on Sara’s Wilkerson Hospital letterhead, dated in July.
