Page 6 of Accidental Murder

Fitz crept forward and viewed the laboratory through the window. The room was identical to the one he had vacated. Patients lay strapped to their beds. Beside each patient was a monitor registering the patient’s brain activity. These patients’ skulls had been inserted with Phase Two needles. Sara stood as if frozen, hand clamped over her mouth, arm across her chest.

Fitz ran a hand down his lapel. If she was having that reaction now, wait until she saw the final results.

Sara shook off her disgust and leaped to action. One by one, she turned off the monitors. Then she pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

Fitz opened the door, ready to stop her from taking photographs, but halted as a hulking technician named Zach emerged from the bathroom.

Zach charged Sara and wrapped his muscular arms around her. “Give up, lady. I’m not letting anyone kill the experiment.”

“Better than murdering all these people.” Sara jammed her heel into the top of Zach’s foot. He whelped.

Fitz stayed put, admiring Sara for her pluck.

“You’re holding these people against their will,” Sara screamed.

“They’ve signed releases.”

“Bull!”

Zach pinched Sara’s jaw and wrenched her head backward. She writhed. Screeched. Screwed her head around. Bit Zach’s wrist. He cursed but didn’t release her.

“The world is going to know what you’re doing once I get out of here,” Sara threatened. “I’ve alerted the police.”

“If you did, they’d already be here.”

“I have copies of research files.”

“Not any longer. Not according to my boss.”

A week ago Sara shouldn’t have let on to Fitz about the records she was keeping. Invading her office and destroying her research had been a brilliant idea. Without evidence, she’d been forced to come back.

“Liar!” Sara said.

“I don’t lie.”

Satisfied Zach had the situation in hand, Fitz stepped out of the room.

Seconds later, the laboratory door flew open, nearly hitting Fitz in the face, and Sara sprinted out.

“You won’t make it past D Wing, lady!” Zach yelled.

At the intersection where the hallways connected, Sara veered right.

Fitz gripped Zach by the shoulder. “Reprogram the exterior locks.” His cell phone rang. Racing after Sara, he pulled it from his pocket and answered. “What do you want?”

“Somebody might have seen Sara’s research reports,” the voice at the other end of the line said.

“Who?”

“Kayla.”

“No way. Sara wouldn’t have shared her findings with anyone until she knew for certain. That’s standard operating procedure for her.”

“Sara didn’t. Kayla?—”

“I don’t care what the reason is, eliminate her.”

Fitz ended the call, dumped the phone into his pocket, and rushed to the intersection. The slap of Sara’s tennis shoes acted like a sonar locating device. By now, Zach would have fixed the building’s exit security code. The sequence of numbers Sara had used to enter the facility would be invalid. She would be locked in, unable to flee.