“So neither one raised an alarm?”

“Hell-o. Our doer plays for my team.”

Slidell was right. The DNA on Leal’s jacket said her killer was male.

“What about the others?” I asked.

“Thought I’d swing by the hospital now.”

“See you there,” I said, and disconnected before Slidell could object.

I arrived first. At nine P.M. on a Monday, the place was quiet.

Knowing Slidell would go batshit if I did anything but breathe, I settled in the waiting area, hoping no one there had anthrax or TB.

Across from me, against one wall, a man in full-body camouflage clutched a shirt-wrapped hand to his chest. To his left, a kid in a tracksuit observed me with crusty red eyes.

Down the row to my right, a girl held a swaddled baby who wasn’t moving or making a sound. I guessed the girl’s age at sixteen or seventeen. Now and then she patted or bounced the still little bundle.

Beyond the girl, a woman coughed wetly into a wadded hankie. Her hair was thin and gray over a shiny pink scalp, her skin the color of uncooked pasta. The fingers on one hand were nicotine yellow.

I focused on the staff, reading names when anyone came into view. Soon spotted one of our targets.

A tall, doughy guy with a stringy blond pony wore a tag identifying him as E. Yoder, CNA. When Yoder passed me to collect Crusty Eyes, I noticed that his arms were flabby and covered with freckles.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen.

The old woman continued her phlegmy hacking. I was considering relocation when Slidell finally came through the door. I got up and crossed to him. “Yoder’s here. I haven’t spotted Neighbors.”

“I talked to her.”

“What?”

“She’s a cretin.”

“Where did you see Neighbors?”

“Does it matter?”

I drilled Slidell with an inquisitional stare.

“In the lobby.”

“And?”

“She handles a lot of patients with bellyaches and scrapes.”

“That’s what she said?”

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“Why is she a ‘cretin’?” Hooking air quotes.

“She’s twenty-four, has a husband and three kids, wasn’t working at Mercy when Nance or Estrada were killed.”

“That makes her a cretin?”

“She’s been outside the Carolinas once in her life, on a school trip to D.C. Thinks the Lincoln Memorial is one of the seven wonders of the world. Never been on a plane. Doesn’t own a computer. You getting the picture?”

I was. Jewell Neighbors didn’t fit the profile of a child killer. Or a child killer’s apprentice.

“And note the pronoun. As in female.”

“You’re assuming no one else is involved.”

Now I was the recipient of a questioning stare.

“A woman would be less threatening.”

“So a woman recruits victims.”

“Maybe here, in person. Maybe online.”

“And why would she do that?”

“It’s not impossible.” Defensive. “Pomerleau did it for Menard.”

“If our perp’s getting help, it ain’t Neighbors. Or Oxendine. And Nesbitt wasn’t around for Nance or Estrada.”

“If Estrada is even linked.” I thought a moment. “Nesbitt was nineteen in 2009. Where was she?”

“I’ll ask.”

“What did she say about Ajax?”

“Kept to himself, didn’t schmooze in the lunchroom, didn’t attend social events. She never saw him outside the workplace. Didn’t know him at all. Same picture I got from Neighbors.”

“Ajax is a loner.”

“Yes. Now you mind if I talk to a guy has history?”

“What does that mean?”

“I ran Yoder. He’s got a jacket.”

“For what?”

“Two 10-90s.”

“Who did he assault?”

“A guy in a bar.”

I started to ask a question. Slidell cut me off.

“And a seventeen-year-old kid named Bella Viceroy.”

CHAPTER 31

ELLIS YODER WASN’T openly hostile. Nor was he terribly forthcoming.

After badging him and vaguely explaining me, Slidell asked to speak in private. Yoder led us to an unoccupied office.

Slidell opened with the arrest record. “Remember Chester Hovey? The guy whose face you retooled with a bottle?”

“The guy who smashed my girlfriend onto a windshield to feel up her tits. You know where Hovey is now?”

“I don’t.”

“Doing time for slapping a hooker around.”

“And Viceroy?”

“Bella.” Yoder wagged his head slowly. “That what this is about?”

Slidell gave him the long stare.

“We fought. The bitch bit me. I smacked her. She brought charges. She was seventeen. I was nineteen, so I took the heat.”

“Sounds like you got anger management issues, Ellis.”

“Oh, right. I’m the one with issues.” Yoder gave a mirthless snort. “Look. Bella and I were both jerks. I’ve been clean since. Check it out.”

“You can take that to the bank.”

“You guys never let up.”

“Do you remember a patient named Shelly Leal, came in last summer complaining of cramps?”

“Hell, yeah. She’s the one got murdered.”

“Tell me about her.”

“I don’t actually remember her.”

“You just said you did.”

“I mean when I heard her name later, you know, in the news, I remembered she was here.”

“You know the name of every patient comes in?”

“No.” Yoder crossed his arms and scratched the outer side of each with long, nervous strokes. His nails left white trails across the freckled landscape.

“But you remember her.”

“Holy shit. Are you thinking I had something to do with that?”

“Did you?”

“No.” A flush colored Yoder’s face.

“How about a patient named Colleen Donovan? Street kid brought in with a gash in her head.”

“When?”

“August 2012.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” More scratching. “Wait. I think Doc Ajax sewed that one up. I didn’t assist.”

“You see either of these kids outside the ER?”

“ED.”

“What?”

“It’s called the ED. Emergency Department.”

“You trying to piss me off?”

“No!” The vehemence caused his nostrils to blanch at the edges.

“Answer the question.”

“The answer is no.”

“Talk about Hamet Ajax.”

“Doc Ajax?” Yoder’s nearly invisible brows rose in surprise. “What about him?”

“You tell me.”

“He’s Indian.”

Slidell offered an upturned palm.

“Not a talker, it’s hard to know.”

“He a good doctor?”

“Good enough.”

“Go on.”

“What do you want me to say? Patients seem to like him. He treats the staff okay. I don’t know anything about his personal life. The docs don’t hang with the drudges.”

“Ever hear any complaints? Rumors?”

“What are you getting at?” Yoder’s eyes hopped to me, back to Slidell. They were a peculiar avocado green.

“Just asking.”

“No.”

“Ever get any bad vibes?”

“From Doc Ajax? No.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Is Alice Hamilton working today?”

Yoder’s fingers stopped. “Now I get it.”

“Yeah?”

“Her and the doc.”

“Go on.”

“I wouldn’t mind a piece of that myself.” His lips squashed up in a smarmy grin. “If you catch my meaning.”

Slidell looked at him coldly.

“Hey, I’m not casting stones.” Raising and splaying both hands. Which were peppered with tiny flakes of dry skin.

“You saying Ajax and Hamilton are doing the two-headed roll?”

Yoder hiked both shoulders and brows.

“Where is she?”

“Hell if I know.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Not for a while.”

“Is that unusual?”

Yoder considered the question. “Nah. She’s a part-timer.”

Slidell gave Yoder the usual mantra about calling if he thought of anything further. We left him scratching and staring at Slidell’s card.

Before leaving the hospital, Slidell asked a supervisor about Hamilton’s next scheduled shift. Learned she was off until Wednesday. Obtained contact information, a mobile.