Murder Deja Vu

murder. I could have warned him about her.”
    “I wish someone had. But that’s moot now, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “What can you tell me about that night, about the others who were with you?”
    “Probably not much more than Steve told you, or Mark told Reece. Why did you think it was me? I was with Betsy Ferrar until three a.m., and she swore to that in an affidavit. The others discovered the body at the apartment before then.”
    “Two reasons. When I talked to her, I got the feeling that she might have fallen asleep.”
    “She did. I didn’t have the heart to wake her. She drank more than she was used to. Everyone did that night. Did you think I drugged her and went off to kill Karen?”
    Clarence hesitated. “The thought entered my mind. Reece had been drugged. The fact he couldn’t remember anything made me suspicious. I thought of date rape drugs, then I thought of Ketamine.”
    Jordan’s eyes remained blank, but he nodded understanding. “Of course. Ketamine. A veterinary drug. Special K I’ve heard it called. Even then we’d read the reports of side effects on humans. Possible memory loss after anesthesia.”
    “Unfortunately date rape drugs have improved, but once the connection formed in my mind, I couldn’t let it go.”
    “I—” Kraus’s face twisted with some memory.
    “What? You thought of something.”
    “Only a fleeting thought, and I can’t remember exactly what. But something about your mention of Ketamine struck a chord. It’ll come to me.”
    Kraus’s wife came outside with a tray containing two glasses with handles, like the old glass root beer mugs Clarence remembered.
    “I made some iced tea.” She put Jordan’s glass to his right without saying anything, and he knew exactly where to reach for it. He smiled in her direction and thanked her.
    “This is unsweetened, Mr. Wright. If you prefer sugar, I’ll bring some out.”
    “This is fine, thanks.”
    “Call me if you need anything,” she said, and left the deck.
    “My wife is a special woman. She was my mobility instructor, getting me ready for a world without sight. I don’t know if I would have made it without her.”
    “I hate to be so single-minded, Mr. Kraus—”
    “Call me Jordan.”
    “Jordan. I don’t have much time. Reece is being stalked by federal agents and the police from border to border. They’ll get him sooner or later. They always do.”
    “And you want me to remember about the Ketamine.”
    “Yes. Maybe it will prick your memory if you tell me what happened that day or the day before.”
    “Let me think.” Kraus sipped his tea, his blank eyes staring over the rim of the glass. “Steve and I volunteered the day before the murder at a clinic for rescue dogs in Cambridge. Everything went fine, so—wait.” He nodded. “I remember now. When we got back to Grafton after the weekend—that’s where Tuft’s vet school is—we were called into the dean’s office. The vet at the clinic called the school to tell them that a vial of Ketamine was missing. Neither Steve nor I knew anything about it. There were other people helping out, so we assumed either one of them took it or an employee used the cover of the rescue clinic to take the vial. We never heard any more about it. I never would have remembered that if you hadn’t mentioned Ketamine.” He put his glass on the table.
    Clarence couldn’t tell if Kraus was thinking or visualizing, but his brow furrowed. “You’re sure Steve didn’t take it?”
    “Positive. Steve wouldn’t kill Karen. He didn’t care enough about women to feel betrayed by one.”
    Clarence blew out a breath. “You knew?”
    “I suspected. I also didn’t care. Steve was and is, I’m sure, a terrific vet. I only wish we could have gone into practice together.”
    “He thinks you didn’t want to partner with him because you found out he was gay.”
    “I know. He told me. He knows better now. By the end of our last year I suffered night blindness and knew I could never go into practice. Once I started losing my peripheral vision, it would keep getting worse, until I had either little or no sight left. I couldn’t stand the thought, but I felt I owed it to myself to finish school. Not everyone with RP goes completely blind. I’m one of the unlucky ones.” He smiled. “Anyway, I backed out of everything for a while. Now I run a non-profit to help people with RP. I understand the disease, and I can speak to experience about going through the