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“Bold? You have a gentleman caller.”

Faith stirred and checked her phone. “Shit. Okay, I’m up. I’ll be downstairs in ten minutes.”

“You’ll be downstairs in five, Marine. Jesus, six-fifty-two, and you’re still not up? You’ve gone soft, Bold.”

She rolled out of bed and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Won’t happen again, First Sergeant.”

Outside the door, Jacob chuckled. “Relax, Bold, I’m just screwing with you. I know you were burning the midnight oil. There’s coffee on the counter. I’m heading to work, but your cop friend can stay as long as he needs to. If the killer shows up to try to get to you two, there’s heavy weaponry in my basement.”

Faith chuckled as she pulled on her pants. “I’ll keep that in mind, First Sergeant.”

She made it downstairs in four minutes, but Jacob wasn’t there to see her. Oh well. Slade would back her up.

The Detective sat at the table admiring his coffee. Turk wagged his tail and sat next to him, closing his eyes in satisfaction as Slade scratched him under his chin. "Damn. I didn't know Marines had such good coffee."

“We didn’t. That’s why we make sure to get good coffee as soon as we’re out.” She grinned and sat across from him. “I hope First Sergeant didn’t rough you up too much.”

“I won’t lie. He intimidated the hell out of me. My old man was a Marine, and he can still kick my ass.”

“That never goes away.” She sipped her own coffee and said, “So you’re here. That means you found something, yes?”

A boyish smile lit his face. “Hell yeah, I did.”

He set his laptop on the table, opened it, then turned it to face her. She smiled slightly. “You have to unlock it first.”

He reddened slightly. “Oh. Right.”

“Nice swim trunks, though. Orcas?”

He reddened further. “Right whales. Grandpa was a fisherman in the North Atlantic. Used to see them all the time.”

“Wow. Grandpa was a fisherman, Dad was a Marine, and you’re a cop. What’s your son gonna be?”

“He wants to be a racecar driver.”

“Oh, that’s cute! Wait, you really have a son?”

“Yep. Peter. Turns seven next week.”

“And you have a shirtless picture of yourself in whale trunks instead of a picture of him as your screensaver?”

“Can we get past the damned trunks? Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Did I say I was admiring the picture?”

Slade rolled his eyes. “All right. Ha ha ha. Forget the screensaver.”

He turned it around and showed Faith a list of names. Faith immediately recognized Dr. Rachel Summers, Dr. Lisa Patel, and Dr. Mark Chen.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a guest list for the Great Lakes Veterinary Conference last year. All three of our victims were on the list.”

Faith grinned. “This is awesome, Slade!”

“You know what’s even more awesome?”

“What?”

He reached around the screen and tapped the tab key. The list became much smaller. It now contained only four names: the three victims and a Dr. Sarah Foster. Foster’s name was struck through with a note to the right that said DECLINED.

“Ooh,” Faith said. “What am I looking at here?”

“This is a list of members of the conference’s panel on vaccinations. You’ll notice that our three victims remained on the panel. You’ll also notice that Dr. Sarah Foster did not remain on the panel.”

“I do indeed notice that. She declined to participate?”

“That’s the official story, but when I called the conference organizers, they gave me another story.”

“Do tell.”

“Well, it took a little digging, but it turns out that Dr. Foster was caught engaging in ‘unethical behavior’ and was asked to leave the panel.”

“What sort of unethical behavior?”

“They didn’t say. They claim to not have records. I can push on that if I need to, but I let it go for the moment because they volunteered a piece of information that I think is more valuable.”

“What’s that?”

“Guess who asked Dr. Foster to resign from the panel?”

Faith’s grin widened. “Would it happen to have been our victims?”

“Just one of them. Dr. Mark Chen. I did a little digging, though, and learned that Dr. Chen was a business partner of Rachel Summers at the time.”

“You don’t say.”

“I do. Dr. Patel’s the odd woman out, but she was part of the panel, so it’s not much of a stretch to believe that Foster just had it in for everyone on the panel.”

“That is very intriguing, Detective. Do we perhaps have contact information for Dr. Foster?”

Slade frowned in mock offense. “Come on, Special Agent. This isn’t my first day on the job. I have her home address, her work address, and the address of the shelter she volunteers at. I took the liberty of calling her work and learning that she is out of the office on Thursdays. I’ll bet money she’s at the shelter today.”

"Go ahead and bet," Faith said, downing the rest of her coffee. "But send officers to her house just in case we're wrong. Good work, Detective."

Slade puffed his chest out like a kid who won a gold medal at a science fair. “Thank you, Special Agent.”

“Come on, Turk,” Faith said. “We have another lead.”

Turk barked enthusiastically and wagged his tail. Faith gave him a quick scratch behind the ears, then led him and Slade out of the house.

They hadn’t moved fast enough to save Dr. Chen, but if all went well today, they could at least deliver justice for the three victims.

***

The Marion County Animal Shelter was located south of the city. That meant a long, slow ride through downtown traffic. Slade led them on a roundabout path to avoid the worst of the traffic, leveraging his lifetime of experience driving through the city to determine the quickest route to the shelter, but it was still taking forever.

Faith did breathing exercises to keep herself calm, but she couldn’t stifle her irrational fear that Dr. Foster would somehow discover that the police were after her, and run before they could reach her. Turk picked up on her anxiety and laid his head on the center console of Slade’s cruiser so Faith could stroke his fur while they drove.

Slade picked up on her anxiety, too. "You want to call the shelter and let them know that we need to come in to talk to Dr. Foster?"

Faith thought a moment, then shook her head. “No. I don’t know what her relationship is with the others there, but I don’t want to risk someone telling her that we’re on our way so she can run.”

“Good point. Well, we’re ten minutes out, so why don’t you call anyway just to make sure she’s still there? Tell them your K9 needs an emergency exam, and they’re the closest place with a doctor on staff.”

“Not a bad idea,” Faith said. She dialed the shelter, and when the receptionist answered, she adopted a concerned tone. “Hello, this is, uh, Officer Bold with the Indianapolis Police Department. Listen, I have an emergency. My K9 cut his neck on some barbed wire. He’s bleeding badly, and his breathing is starting to get labored.”

“Oh my God. Umm… do you need directions to the hospital?”

"I'm only a few minutes from you guys. I know that you guys have a vet who visits on Thursdays because my cousin got a dog from you. Is she there if we come in really quickly? I just don't have the tools to stop the bleeding."

“Oh, um… Yeah, I’ll let Dr. Foster know you’re on your way in.”

Faith pumped her fist. “Okay. Thank you.”

She hung up, and Slade said, “Damn. You laid that on really thick.”

“Hey, this was your idea.”

“I was thinking a limp or something, not bleeding out. Damn.”

“Well, it worked. Unless you want to chase another suspect through the forest.”

“I mean, the shelter’s in the city, so…”

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Next time, you can call the shelter."

“All right, don’t get all pissy with me.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “You related to a man named Michael Prince by any chance?”

“We’ve been through this. Unrelated but an admirer. He sounds handsome and intelligent.”

She chuckled. “Come to think of it, we have been through this. He’s also very annoying.”

“You have to be nice to me. I gave us this lead.”

“All right, fair enough,” she allowed. “But if it doesn’t pan out, I’m going back to being mean.”

“Works for me.”

They reached the shelter a few minutes later. Turk’s tail wagged in anticipation of the hunt. Faith patted his shoulder. “Probably no chase this time, boy.” At least, she very much hoped so.

The shelter was beautiful from the outside. The paint looked fresh, and the building and lot looked clean. The landscaping was well-manicured, and the sign showed a beautiful Dalmatian puppy looking with big brown eyes at a smiling woman in veterinary scrubs. Text below the sign proudly announced “Healthy, Happy and looking for a home!”

Inside, the building was just as well-maintained. The receptionist sat behind an oak-paneled desk, and the floor was nicely tiled. Not quite stone but far better than the paper laminate found in most businesses of this sort. Faith almost wished she could be here for a purpose other than arresting a suspected killer.

The receptionist’s eyes widened when she saw them walk in. “Oh, you’re the police officer with the K9.” She frowned. “But he looks fine. And you’re wearing an FBI uniform.”

“Yes,” Faith admitted. “I really do need to see Dr. Foster, though. We’re conducting an investigation.”

The receptionist blinked. “Um… I mean… do you have a warrant or anything?”

“We have a lot of probable cause,” Slade replied. “You can make things difficult for us, but that’s only going to delay our investigation, not change the outcome. And it could contribute to a very bad person getting away with very bad things.”

The receptionist bit her lip and looked between the three of them. Her eyes rested on Turk, and the K9s professional demeanor finally swayed her. “Dr. Foster is waiting in her exam room, but I can’t promise that she’ll talk to you.”

"That's fine," Faith replied. "Let us worry about her. Where's her exam room?"

“It’s at the end of the hallway, past the cages. Your dog… he’s okay with other animals, right? We have some animals who were rescued from abusive households, and they can be unpredictable sometimes.”

“He’s fine,” Faith assured her. “He’s been through worse than a few barking dogs.”

“Okay. Shit, um… Good luck, I guess?”

The three of them walked through the door and started toward the exam room. As the receptionist had warned, several dogs got to their feet and backed to the rear of their cages, barking and snarling, their tails tucked in fear. Turk gave them compassionate looks but otherwise didn’t react.

A few other workers gasped when they saw the officers. One of them dropped a tray of dog food and apologized profusely as she tried to move the food out of their way.

“That’s all right,” Faith told her. “Sorry to intrude. We should be out of your hair soon.”

The door to the exam room opened, and a petite woman with severe features and jet-black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail poked her head out. "What the hell is going…” Her eyes flew open when she saw the investigators approaching. “Oh, shit!”

She ducked back into the room and closed the door. Faith heard a click as the latch closed. She drew her weapon, and Slade followed suit while Turk rushed to the door and barked firmly.

Through the window in the door, Faith could see Foster taking pill bottles out of her purse and throwing them in desk drawers. “I can see you,” Faith told her. “Open this door now, or we’re coming in.”

Foster glanced nervously back at the door, but didn’t answer. “Dr. Sarah Foster, I see you removing evidence from your purse and attempting to hide it. We will search this room, and we will find that evidence. You’re only earning yourself more charges. Do you open this door, or do we come in?”

Foster tossed a final bottle into a drawer and called, “I’m opening the door! I’m coming quietly! Please don’t hurt me!”

She rushed to the door, and when she opened it, she tried to push past the two of them. Slade caught her and quickly handcuffed her.

“Turk, go find her drugs,” Faith said.

“No!” Foster shrieked.

She aimed a kick at Turk, and Slade pulled her away and pushed her against the wall. “That’s assault on a law enforcement officer!” he shouted. “You want more charges?”

“Okay,” Foster said. “Damn it! Fine! You got me. Can we please have this conversation somewhere else, though?”

“We will,” Faith replied. “But first, we’re going to gather all of the evidence.”

Foster slumped in Slade’s arm. Tears welled in her eyes. “Damn it,” she muttered. “This isn’t fair.”

Faith scoffed. Some people were so selfish. Three people dead, and it was unfair that she’d been caught?

Well, she’d get what was coming to her. “Call a unit to take her to the jail,” Faith told Slade. “We’ll get what we need here. Then we’ll see what she has to say.”

Foster sniffled and pouted as Slade led her outside. Faith walked to Turk and retrieved the bottles Foster tried to hide. She saw one that said PENTOBARBITAL, and her lips thinned.

There was no more doubt about it. They had their killer.