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Chapter 39

“Who?” asked Campbell, his gaze flicking back and forth between Mathies and the body.

“Sonja Rossman. She...was one of the nurses at our local hospital. She didn’t show up for work this morning.” Mathies turned to Gafferty, who was making more notes on his clipboard. “Any idea of cause of death?”

“I really would prefer not to speculate until...” He caught Campbell’s glare. “Well, based on the presence of petechiae, although that is not definitive in any way, I would say—”

“Strangulation?”

“More likely suffocation, since there is some bruising around the mouth and I see no other marks or bruises that would indicate manual strangulation.”

“So she was murdered.” The sinking feeling in Mathies’ stomach returned.

“Yes. Not only that, but the crime most likely did not take place here. The patterns produced by livor mortis indicate that the body was moved some time after death.”

“Any indication that she fought of her attacker?” asked Campbell.

“None that I can see, but we will be checking that back at the morgue. We’ll do a tox screen, too, of course.”

“Of course,” muttered Mathies. He already had a suspicion of what they would find.

“Any other questions?” asked Gafferty, impatiently glancing at his watch.

“No.”

“Good. I’ll forward a report to the state police office when it is finished. I trust someone will give you a copy, when it’s appropriate.” Gafferty tucked his pen into his clipboard and nodded brusquely to the two attendants. They zipped up the bag again and carried the gurney down the path towards the parking lot, followed by Gafferty and one of the local officers.

Mathies watched them leave, struggling to control his anger and frustration. He felt a presence behind him and turned to find Campbell, his face etched with concern.

“Rick...”

“I need to get back. I have to send someone out to Sonja’s house to conduct an examination of the scene, I have to start interviews, and...” His voice rose, the effort to control his panic failing.

“Rick, we’ll take care of it. We’ll continue the search for Bonnie, too, but you need to take a break. You need to get some sleep before you crack up. Please, as your friend, I’m telling you, for your sake and for hers. Go home.”

“I...all right, Pat. I just have one more thing I need to do first.” Mathies turned to leave and out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of reflected sunlight. He turned back towards the river, searching the opposite shore for the source, but saw nothing. He shook his head to clear it and looked again. Nothing. Finally he turned and headed down the path back to the parking lot.



When he reached the end of the trail, Mathies saw Prescott, notebook in hand, speaking earnestly to the officer that had been guarding the path. The officer appeared to be reluctantly answering Prescott’s questions and shot Mathies a look of relief when he arrived. Mathies motioned to Prescott, who followed him back to the cruiser where Crow was still waiting. He appeared to be watching the activity at the M.E. van, which soon started up and drove off, disappearing around one of the bends in the road. After they were all back in the cruiser, Prescott turned to Mathies with a questioning look. Mathies ignored him, started the cruiser, and guided it out of the parking lot. After several miles of silence, Mathies spoke.

“It was Sonja Rossman. She was murdered.”

Prescott nodded slowly, saying nothing. They rode in silence for several more miles. Finally Prescott spoke.

“I believe this is the work of the same killer. Miss Rossman likely had some role in the crimes, willingly or not, and the killer needed to eliminate a witness.”

“I’ll buy that,” muttered Mathies. “She provided the drugs, and got a little too nosy for comfort’s sake, so he killed her, too.”

“I also believe that the timing of her death is not a coincidence.”

“What do you mean? Is this another crime to direct attention away from the Zoller case?”

“Perhaps. However, I would be interested in knowing the consequences of Ms. Rossman’s, ah, unavailability for work yesterday.”

“The M.E. said she had been dead for at least two days. Someone...the killer, called her in sick yesterday. Why would he do that? He didn’t want someone looking for her right away?”

“Perhaps.”

“I need to talk to Nicki Peterson and find out who took that call...”

“You may also want to find out who would have to cover for Ms. Rossman in her absence.”



When Nicki saw Mathies approach the nurses’ station, she gave him a disgusted scowl and rose to her feet.

“Well? Did you find Sonja? What is her excuse this time?” Nicki appeared to be ready to take out her frustration on Mathies himself. He was surprised to discover that he didn’t really care.

“When did Sonja call in sick yesterday?” he asked.

Nicki, startled by Mathies tone, stopped, looked down at the desk and flipped through a notebook.

“She called at 1 PM. An hour ahead of her shift, which is the absolute minimum I will accept for calling off. She didn’t even make that deadline today. What—?”

“Who took the call?”

“I did. I take all calls dealing with scheduling.”

“Did it come directly to you?”

“Of course. It’s standard practice.”

“When she called, how did she sound?”

“Sheriff, what is this all about?”

“Just tell me. Did she sound normal?

“Well...” Nicki gave Mathies a confused look. “No. She sounded sick. Terrible, really. She barely could speak above a whisper. I didn’t want her to expose the patients to anything, otherwise I would have—”

“What do you normally do when someone calls in sick?”

“I call the person who is assigned to cover for them. It means extra shifts, overtime, and—”

“You have specific people assigned to cover for others?”

“Yes, I pair up my staff so one is always ready to cover for the other.”

“Is this a permanent thing?”

“The pairs change every two months.”

“Who was assigned to cover for Sonja Rossman?”

“Rebecca Jenkins.”

Mathies felt a cold chill. Now he understood why Prescott needed this information. He returned his attention to Nicki, who was continuing her complaints.

“Yes, now you see how much of a bind I’m in here. So tell, me, Sheriff, where is Sonja? Why hasn’t she called or come in to work?”

“She’s dead.”

Nicki stared at him, open-mouthed, the color draining from her face.

“Rick,” she said in a shaky voice, “that’s not funny. You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

She gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers turning white.

“But, I just spoke to her yesterday. She is...was a healthy young woman. The flu—”

“It wasn’t the flu.”

“But—”

“You better get back to your scheduling,” said Mathies, with a little more venom than he intended. Instantly he felt remorse. “In the mean time,” he said in a gentler voice, “I need to speak to Marilyn. Where is she?”

“She...” Nicki slowly walked back to her chair and sat down, looking at her notebook as she did so. “She is just about done with her shift...she should be finishing up her rounds in the south wing.”

“Thanks, I’ll find her.” He turned and headed down the hall. When he reached the corner, he saw Marilyn at the far end and walked towards her. She looked up as he approached.

“Hello, Sheriff. Did you—?”

He held the photo album out to her. Marilyn accepted it with a sad smile.

“I hope this is what she wanted. How is she?”

“They’re discharging her tonight and I’m taking her home with me. I didn’t think she’d be allowed, or should be allowed to go back home. I still don’t think she’s ready to talk to you, though.”

“I understand, but I do need to speak with her as soon as possible. Please, let me know. It’s important.” He turned to leave.

“Sheriff...Rick, I heard about Bonnie. It was on the news. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, barely keeping control.

“What is this world coming to? Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re doing what we can for now. Thank you.” He walked back down the hall and headed for the elevator, taking one last look at the nurses’ station. Nicki was still sitting there, pale and silent, staring off into space, the ringing of the phones unheeded.



Mathies slid into the driver’s seat of his cruiser, shut the door and turned to Prescott.

“Rebecca Jenkins was the one assigned to cover Sonja Rossman’s shift. It was all part of the ‘protocol’.” He sighed bitterly. “It wasn’t luck that kept her from being home when her family was murdered. It was arranged.”

Prescott nodded.

“An intentional survivor. There was a survivor of the Zoller family as well. And the Eastman family.”

“So that’s our pattern? The killer is destroying families, leaving only one behind? But why? And how are they connected?” He was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. He withdrew it from his pocket, checked the number and opened it.

“Yes, Sheri? No, not yet. What?” He listened, his shoulders sagging as he heard the reason for Sheri’s call. “Yes, I understand. Just what I need right now...No, I’ll be there. I’ll be back to the office in a few hours. Thanks, Sheri.” He pressed the end button and snapped the phone shut.

“It seems that the county commissioners are ‘concerned’ over the recent events. They’re holding a meeting tonight at the town hall, 6 PM sharp. God knows what will happen then. I suspect I’m going to get called to the carpet.”

“We will be there as well. It would be a good opportunity to observe a larger section of the population. At least, that is the excuse we will provide. In the meantime, Mr. Crow and I will continue our interviews. I will also pass on this new information to Mr. Glinn.”

“I hope you, all of you, come up with something soon. I...”

“I understand, Sheriff. Until this evening, then.” Prescott opened the door and stepped out, followed a few seconds later by Crow. They crossed the parking lot, climbed into their truck and drove away without a backward glance.

Mathies stared out the window, trying to collect his thoughts, but due his lack-of sleep induced mental fog he was unable to form any coherent conclusions. Maybe I am cracking up, like Pat said. I guess I better take his advice. With a feeling of resignation, he started up the cruiser and headed home.



After putting several blocks between themselves and the hospital, Pendergast pulled to a stop at the corner near the Sheriff’s Office. He killed the engine and turned to Tigg. She continued to stare straight ahead, and after a few moments spoke in a subdued voice. “She wasn’t supposed to be there, either.”

Pendergast nodded and replied.

“Yes. We appear to have a reason behind the modus operandi. What we lack is a connection between the families. Have you remembered anything that may help?”

“No. Well, I knew Becca and her family, obviously, and she knew mine, but I still don’t remember anything about anyone named Zoller, and I didn’t know Sonja Rossman.” Tigg turned to him, her expression clouded with anger.

“This whole thing is crazy! Maybe you and Eli are trying to make sense of the senseless. Maybe there is no reason, no connection, and we’re just chasing shadows.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Well...no, I don’t. But—”

“Then we shall continue our investigation. Perhaps this next interview will spark something in your memory, a connection we have not as yet discovered.”

“Who are we going to see this time?”

“Mrs. Willamette.”

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