“I’m not sure just yet.”
“Well, I can already tell you that you’re not going to give up,” he said. “That’s not the Spenser Song I know.”
She scrubbed her face with her hands, trying to solve the problem she’d been working in her mind all night. But it was like the most complex Rubik’s Cube she’d ever seen. Every which way she turned it, the colors never lined up exactly right. And what was killing her the most was that Layla wasn’t some criminal mastermind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along. And despite that, it seemed like she was outwitting Spenser at every turn.
But then, that could have been the problem. Spenser was so used to dealing with criminals who thought in relatively complex terms that she thought in three dimensions by default. Layla wasn’t like those criminals. She didn’t see the board in three dimensional terms. She just did things.
“The needle she used to lace Hamill’s steroids would help the case. But by this point, Layla probably destroyed it already. At least, she would have if she was smart.”
“You’ve said a hundred times that she’s not a criminal. That she doesn’t think like them,” he offered. “So, maybe if she doesn’t think like them, she hasn’t disposed of it yet?”
“I mean, it’s possible. But I wouldn’t even have an idea where to start looking. She would probably want it someplace she controlled but I doubt she’d have left it in her house. I didn’t find it in her bathroom, anyway.”
“The list of places she can control has got to be really small.”
Spenser’s mind flitted back to the information they had on hand. Specifically, she thought back to the dots on the map Jacob had put up that day in the conference room that detailed the movements chronicled by her phone—where she was and where she wasn’t on the fourteenth. And as that image came into focus in her mind, the idea hit her like a freight train.
“Oh my God, that’s it,” she said. “If she still has it, I think I have a notion where it’s going to be.”
Ryker smiled. “See? I was right to think you’d come up with it.”
Spenser turned and threw her arms around Ryker, giving him a big kiss.
“You are the best,” she said.
“Yeah. I’m aware.”
Laughing together, they walked back toward the house. It was too late to get anything going, but Spenser was eager to get to the office in the morning and start putting the nails in Layla Li’s coffin. The woman was laughing now, but Spenser was going to have the final laugh.
“Oh good, you’re both already here,” Spenser said as she stepped into the conference room.
“We are,” Amanda replied slowly and glanced at her watch. “But… what are you doing here so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start on the day.”
Amanda glanced at her brother as Spenser set the tray with the coffee down then slid the box of pastries across the table. She gave them both a minute to fortify themselves with some caffeine and sugar. At the moment, they were unaware, but it was going to be a long day, so she figured they were going to need the energy coffee and donuts provided.
Spenser dropped her bag to the floor and turned to Amanda. It had been a largely sleepless night as she’d played with her theory like a kid with a new toy on Christmas morning.
“Has Bustos checked in?” Spenser asked.
“He did. He said there was nothing to report. Said that after work, she came home and stayed in all night,” Amanda said. “I got your email this morning, so I sent Kruger out to replace him at shift change.”
“Good. That’s good.”
Spenser stood up and folded her arms over her chest as she began pacing the room. The only thing she’d been able to do last night was assign a deputy to sit on Layla’s house and keep tabs on her movements.
“What’s going on, boss?”
“Are you okay, Sheriff?” Amanda asked. “You seem a little… wired.”
“I am. And that’s because we are going to nail Layla Li. Today.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Amanda asked. “If memory serves, she cooked us pretty hard yesterday.”
“Me. She cooked me. No need to sugarcoat it, Amanda,” she said. “I’m a big girl and can take my lumps when I screw up.”
The younger woman looked down at the table, still unwilling to throw Spenser under the bus for her failures with Layla.
Jacob turned to her. “I’m assuming by your frenetic energy that you’ve got a plan?”
“Not really. I’ve got a hunch. I’m hoping a plan will come out of that hunch.”
“Hunches are good,” Amanda said. “Your last hunch led us to the killer.”
“A little late, but yeah. We got there,” Spenser said. “I kept going back to the fact that Layla left the empty box of eyedrops and syringe packaging in her trash can, which tells me she’s not a master criminal. That she’s making this up as she goes along and although she had a plan to kill Hamill, she didn’t think very far beyond it. She’s very smart, which makes her dangerous. But she’s also flying by the seat of her pants right now, which makes her sloppy. At least, I’m hoping it does.”
“I’d hate to see what that chick would come up with if she actually put some thought into her plans,” Jacob quipped.
“I don’t think she got rid of the needle. Not yet,” Spenser said. “I think she’s still got it stashed somewhere.”
“She kept it like a trophy?” Amanda asked.
“Not a trophy,” Spenser responded. “The fact that she didn’t dispose of all the evidence cleanly suggests to me that she didn’t really think that far ahead. She didn’t take the steps to properly cover her tracks.”
