Page 77 of Accidental Murder

Genetic defects.Mutations. She’d seen those on Sara’s fact sheets. “Have you heard of something called Brain Freeze?”

“No, but the phrase reminds me of how my head feels after eating a bowl of ice cream.” Greta tapped her forehead. “It is something else?”

“I think so.”

“If Brain Freeze goes along with IR, I suppose it might be used to stop the brain’s functions. Perhaps to shut down the radiation from progressing in an injurious manner.”

“Have you ever heard of Bledsoe Research Institute?” Kayla asked.

“No. Is it developing this Brain Freeze?”

“If Sara’s notes are correct, possibly. But I can’t locate the facility on the Internet.”

“Aha. Come with me.”

Greta’s office was a maze of files, folders, and research volumes. She pulled a large red book from a shelf and flipped through it. “Hmm.Bledsoe is not listed. It is not even registered as a corporation, which does not mean much. The industry is burgeoning with new startup companies. You said Sara Simmons worked for two companies. Have you gone to the other location and asked about this business?”

Kayla could’ve kicked herself. How could she have forgotten about Bioethics Coalition? “I feel so stupid.”

“You are not.” Greta touched Kayla’s shoulder. “A person under stress does not think clearly and, my sweet friend, you are a poster child for stress.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

While Rodrigo handledthe questioning of witnesses at the Cow Palace, Megan and Captain Wald, at his insistence, drove to Guys Like Us. When she entered the warehouse, her mouth fell open. Except for the expensive sports cars in the parking lot, she’d considered the outside of the place a dump. Inside, a designer with flair had created a hip space. However, the blaring heavy metal music had to go. It was driving home the headache that had taken hold of her temples. She needed an ice pack and a couple of days away from the job. Maybe a lifetime away.

A curly-haired, suntanned man exited a laboratory and regarded them. “SFPD, I’m assuming?”

Megan was struck by how much the man resembled his deceased partner. Other than skin tone, they could have been twins. The likeness didn’t seem to faze the captain, who steamed toward the man with such energy he reminded Megan of a bull charging a toreador.

“Captain Dennis Wald, SFPD.”

“Gil Baker, the third. Friends call me B.” The man extended a hand. Captain Wald didn’t shake.

Megan acknowledged Baker with a nod. Prior to heading to the warehouse, she’d contacted Guys Like Us and advised the receptionist to convene the partners.

“I can’t believe Jacob’s dead.” Baker’s voice didn’t waver. Neither did his gaze . In fact, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of regret in them.

Megan said, “Mr. Baker?—”

“I’ll handle this, Inspector,” the captain cut in. “Mr. Baker, where are the other partners?”

On the way over, the captain had warned Megan to follow his lead, but his muscular insertion into the investigation was worrying her.

“Everyone who works here is in the data room. We’re all pretty shaken up.” He motioned, his voice flat. “Would you care to sit?”

Captain Wald remained standing, arms folded across his chest. Baker followed suit.

A Mexican standoff. Terrific.Megan would never understand the testosterone that coursed through men’s veins. “The music is distracting,” she said. “Would you mind?” She mimed switching it off.

“Sure thing.” Baker strolled to the tuner.

The captain traipsed after him. “Can you account for your whereabouts between six and nine this morning?”

“We’ve all been here. Finishing up a project. Is it true how Jacob died?”

“Yep.” Like a royal jerk, the captain slid his finger along his throat. “Do you own a hunting knife?”

“What? No. I’m not a hunter. I’ve never hunted. I don’t even fish.”