The Purrfect Murder

Cars pull in and out of here all the time. No one saw any vehicle leave in a hurry, and no one knew Wylde was shot until probably five minutes after he was hit, which makes me think the perp may have used a silencer. No one came out of either building. So whoever drove out, it just looked like business as usual, or so it seems. The only people identified so far who drove off the lot close to this time are Dr. Harvey Tillach and Kylie Kraft, one of the girls in the office. She came right back with four frosties for everyone.”
    “They’re a mess in Will’s office, but that’s understandable.”
    “What if the killer had help on the inside?” Rick kept trying to put the pieces together.
    “Ah.” Coop once again appreciated her boss’s mind.
    “The antiabortion extremists have become more sophisticated and patient. I say extremist because I don’t think most antiabortionists are willing to kill doctors to prove their point; it does the reverse.”
    “Can’t say you revere life, then take it away.” Coop nodded. “Well, boss, this one’s going to bring the press down like vultures, as well as every local and state politician on both sides of the issue. And in the process, people will forget that Will was a talented OB/GYN, who also performed terminations.”
    He turned toward the door leading out onto the roof. “I know.” He opened the door for Coop and they both descended the stairwell, their steps reverberating.
    Before going outside, Coop stopped a moment and knelt down. Rick knelt beside her and reached in his deep breast pocket for a small plastic Ziploc.
    “Could be nothing.”
    “One smoked Virginia Slims cigarette is still worth bagging.” He used the tweezers she handed him, plucked it up, and dropped it in the bag, sealing it.
    “Not my brand.”
    “Mine, either.” He paused. “I didn’t know you had a brand. I thought you just bummed fags off me.”
    “That’s a low blow.” She stood up, her left knee creaking even though she was in her thirties. “I’ll bet five bucks this didn’t belong to Wylde’s killer.”
    “Why?”
    “Men don’t smoke Virginia Slims, number one. Number two, I know of no case where a woman has killed a doctor who performs abortions. It’s always men.”
    “This could be a first.” Rick pushed open the door into the bright light.
    “Take the bet?”
    “Sure, what’s five bucks?” They crossed the parking lot and entered the building. Then turned right to Will’s office.
    Margaret Westlake, the office manager, who was in her early forties, stood to greet them. Her eyes, puffy and bloodshot, testified to her tears.
    Sophie Denham, the senior nurse, in her early fifties, had a paper cup in her hand as she stood over Kylie Kraft, a young nurse verging on hysterics.
    Sophie glanced at the sheriff and deputy. “Thank God you’re here.”
    “I want to go home,” Kylie wailed.
    “Gave her a Valium,” Sophie, hands shaking slightly, informed them.
    Having seen their fair share of hysterics, Rick replied, “Terrible shock. I know Officer Sharpton took your statements. Deputy Cooper and I will carefully go over them. On the outside chance that something occurred to you since he was here, I thought I’d come in.”
    The three looked mutely at one another, but both Margaret and Sophie were sophisticated enough to recognize that Rick came by to scope them as well as the territory. Anyone with contact to Will Wylde was potentially a suspect.
    “Did Dr. Wylde gamble?” Cooper asked.
    Margaret, surprised, answered, “No. Why?”
    “If a person falls behind on the debts, this can be the payback,” Cooper quietly informed them.
    Sophie blinked. “As far as I know he didn’t gamble.”
    Reaching for Cooper’s slender hand, Kylie moaned, “Can’t I go home?”
    “Not just yet,” Cooper said as Kylie dropped her hand, disappointed and beginning to get a little fuzzy from the sedative.
    “Women?” Rick questioned.
    “No.” Margaret shook her head.
    “There was that rumor about the first Mrs. Tillach,” Sophie added, then instantly felt disloyal to the deceased doctor.
    “There was a creature given to fantasy.” Margaret’s lip curled upward slightly. “Typical Charlottesville rumor. Everyone smacks their lips but no one actually ferrets out the facts. The entire episode was repellent.” She calmed herself, then added, “Sheriff, given that this appears planned—I mean, no one broke in here waving a gun and screaming—I have to think