Wired - Douglas E. Richards [9]
You’re not paranoid if they really are out to get you, thought Desh dryly, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Lusetti’s secretary alerted the authorities to the existence of the camera, which recorded some nice footage of Kira Miller ransacking the place and leaving with a large file folder and Lusetti’s laptop. They were able to enhance the footage enough to make out the label on the file she took. Turns out it was a file Lusetti had on her.”
“Interesting. Do we know why she was under investigation?”
Connelly shook his head. “No. Lusetti’s secretary knew nothing about it. And Kira Miller’s file was the only one he kept at home. There were no other records ever located that made any mention of her at all—other than the ones she took, of course.”
Connelly gestured at the photographs and Desh flipped to the next one.
“Alan Miller,” said Connelly. “Kira’s older brother.”
Desh studied the photo. Blue eyes. Handsome. He could see the family resemblance.
“Around midnight that same day, brother Alan turned up dead in Cincinnati. His house was found burned to the ground with his charred remains inside.”
“Arson?”
“No question about it. A rental car was found abandoned near the house with traces of acetone inside, the fire accelerant used in the arson. The DNA from a strand of hair found on the driver’s seat of the car matched Kira Miller’s DNA from hair samples police had taken from her condo.”
“And she had rented the car?”
“Yes. Using an alias. The name and license she used to rent it turned out to be untraceable. But the rental car agent identified her picture from ten that were shown to him. Later, police found a cab driver who recognized her picture. The Cabbie said he had picked her up a few miles from the brother’s house, about an hour after the fire, and had taken her to the airport.” Connelly frowned. “This is where the trail ends. We presume she took a flight, but if she did she used fake identification.”
Desh pulled Kira Miller’s 8-by-10 from the photo pile and examined her once again. She had such a friendly and appealing look. But this was just a carefully constructed mask. Being burned alive was one of the more horrible ways to die. Killing anyone in cold calculation in such a sadistic fashion—especially a family member—pointed to a psychopathic or sociopathic personality. And these soulless monsters were hard to spot. In fact, Desh knew, they were often quite intelligent and charismatic, and highly skilled at hiding their true nature.
Connelly nodded toward the last photo Desh held in his hand. It was of a tall man, probably in his early fifties, with wavy, seemingly uncombed salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in business casual slacks and shirt. He had a long, thin face and a wild, faraway look in his eye that reminded Desh of a stereotypical professor.
“Tom Morgan. He was NeuroCure’s Chief Scientific Officer and Kira’s boss when she joined. He was killed in an auto accident almost exactly three years after Kira Miller’s hire. In light of future events, we now think there’s a good chance it wasn’t an accident.”
Desh frowned and was silent for several long seconds, digesting what he had been told so far. “You said her parents were deceased. How did they die?”
“I figured you’d jump to this question,” said Connelly approvingly. “You really do have a singular talent for connecting dots.”
“Thanks, Colonel,” said Desh. “But these particular dots aren’t exactly difficult to connect.”
“You’d be surprised. Anyway, to answer your question, her parents both died in the same auto accident. While she was in high school. As with Morgan, the police didn’t suspect foul play at the time and didn’t do much of an investigation. But in light of everything else, it’s not hard to imagine that their daughter was behind it.”
Desh knew signs of sociopathy were usually present from a very young age if anyone was looking in the right direction. If Kira Miller could torch her brother in cold blood, she wouldn’t likely be squeamish about killing her parents either. A thorough examination of mysterious