Live to Tell - Lisa Gardner [109]
“It’s odd—” Karen started.
“Then,” D.D. cut in, “a girl was hanged last night, who also happens to be working with the same staff member whose family was murdered almost exactly twenty-five years ago. Another coincidence?”
“These things happen.”
“Really? How many kids have you found hanging in the hospital? How many patients have you discharged who’ve wound up murdered?”
Karen didn’t reply anymore. She looked as tired as Lightfoot. The head nurse sighed, then reached for a stack of paperwork on her desk. She pulled out a report, then looked back up at D.D.
“When were the Harringtons killed?” Karen asked. “Wednesday? Thursday?”
“Thursday evening.”
The nurse glanced at the report. “Danielle worked that night. In fact, she pulled a double, working night shift on Thursday and day shift on Friday.”
“What time is night shift?”
“Seven to seven.”
D.D. considered the matter. The Harringtons had presumably died around dinnertime. Considering how long it would take to subdue an entire family, clean up, make it from Dorchester to Cambridge … “What time did she clock in?” D.D. asked.
“Danielle arrived at six-thirty and prepared for her shift.”
“And Friday night?”
Karen thinned her lips. “Technically speaking, Danielle concluded her day shift at seven p.m. She remained on the unit, however, debriefing with me, then catching up on paperwork until after eleven. At which time she was involved in an altercation with Lucy, who had a violent episode.”
“The bruises on Danielle’s neck,” D.D. said, remembering.
“Exactly. So while Danielle was not on the clock, she was here, and I have it documented, per hospital policy.”
D.D.’s turn to thin her lips. Meaning Danielle had alibis for both the Harrington and Laraquette-Solis murders.
“She was working last night when Lucy disappeared,” D.D. said.
“Correct.”
“Now, call me crazy, but you’re saying she worked Thursday night, Friday day—lingering until after eleven p.m.—then was back for Saturday night shift. That’s a lot of hours in a short span of time.”
“Our staff tends to lump their shifts, pulling doubles in order to maximize their days off. Work-three-days, play-five kind of thing.”
D.D. stared at the nurse administrator.
“Danielle is also a workaholic,” Karen conceded. “Particularly this time of year.”
“Who else knows her history?” D.D. asked.
“Everyone.”
“Everyone?”
“She’s infamous, even by our drama-rich standards. Most of the parents hear about her past sooner or later, as well. Gossip, rumors. People are people.”
“What about Gym Coach Greg? Was he working Thursday night? Or Friday?”
A fresh perusal of the time sheet. “Not Thursday night. On Friday, he had the day shift. Seven a.m. to seven p.m. Of course, he was also working last night, when Lucy …” The nurse’s voice trailed off.
D.D. digested that. So Danielle had an alibi for the Harrington and Laraquette-Solis murders, but not Greg. Good to know. She adopted her conversational tone again. “So who do you think’ll be next?”
“Excuse me?”
D.D. shrugged. “The Harringtons were murdered Thursday night. The Laraquette-Solis family was murdered Friday night. Lucy was hanged Saturday night.” D.D. glanced at her watch. “It’s now nearly five o’clock. I figure we got, what, one hour, two, three, then it’s time for Sunday-night action. Another child here? Another family out there? Clock’s ticking. Place your bets.”
Karen stared at her, wide-eyed.
“You think I’m messing around?” D.D. asked. “You think I have nothing better to do than terrorize a bunch of hardworking professionals on a pediatric psych ward? Families are dying. Children are being murdered. Now, start telling me what the fuck is going on, so my squad can shut it down. Five o’clock, Karen. Don’t ask me who’ll be dead by six.”
Then, almost as if someone had heard her words, the first scream sounded