Free A Killer Among Us by Lynette Eason Page B

would be around campus the minute they walked out the door.
    Kit smiled at the distraught woman. “Thank you. We may have some more questions later.”
    â€œThat’s fine. I’ll be here. I’ll want to know when the funeral is.”
    Compassion crossed Kit’s face and Noah knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment. It never got easier seeing grief. “We know where to find you then. I’m sure the funeral will be announced in the paper.”
    She thanked them and turned to disappear into the back.
    Noah looked at Kit. “Okay, so let’s track down Megan and Chelsea and see what they can tell us.”

    The Judge banged his hand against the desk and let out a growl. The disrespect, the humiliation. How dare he? Couldn’t he see she was his? The Judge had chosen her and now this.
    Curses flew from his lips as he thought about how he would get even. And he would.
    Various methods flittered through his mind. He would love to put the gun against the base of his head and pull the trigger.
    But this man was different. Cops were difficult to take by surprise. He knew that from firsthand experience. And while they were easy to fool most of the time, he couldn’t take a chance on messing up a cop killing—and he had to make sure he left no evidence behind.
    It had to be fast, unexpected—and from a distance. A thought occurred to him. If he killed one, he’d have to kill two more. Because it had to be three. If he deviated from three, everything would be wrong.
    The Judge rubbed his lips. So, he needed a plan. A different plan for taking out a cop. Then two more.
    He’d come up with one.
    Soon.

8
    Kit’s rubber-soled shoes didn’t make a sound on the carpeted floor as they headed to find Chelsea Bennett. “Chelsea’s on the second floor, room 208. Steps or elevator?”
    Noah grunted. “Steps, I guess.”
    They found the stairwell and trotted up. Kit examined the numbers on each door and found room number 208 around the corner.
    A quick rap on the door got the attention of the professor. He opened it, curiosity stamped on his aging features. Kit flashed her badge and asked, “Could we speak with Chelsea Bennett please?”
    â€œSure.” He turned and said, “Chelsea, would you step outside for a moment?”
    A young black girl in her midtwenties appeared. “Yes?”
    Noah gestured at the empty classroom next door and asked her to take a seat. Kit and Noah flanked her in the desks on either side of her.
    Kit said, “We need to ask you some questions about Bonnie Gray.”
    â€œSure, what about her?” Fear flickered. “Is she all right?”
    â€œUh . . . no, no she’s not.” Noah cleared his throat. “She was killed sometime this morning in her home.”
    â€œWhat?” she screeched, as her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Kit laid a hand over the girl’s clenched fist. Chelsea shook her off and bolted to her feet. Tears tracked their way down her dark cheeks. “He finally did it, didn’t he?”
    â€œWhat? Who did what?” Noah stood with her.
    â€œThat no good ex of hers. Justin Marlowe.” She paced to the front of the room, then back. A tear teetered on the edge of her chin, then fell to the floor. “He told her when she broke up with him that if he couldn’t have her, no one would.”
    â€œDid she file a restraining order on him?”
    Contempt dripped from Chelsea’s already black eyes. “Yes, she filed a restraining order.” She snorted. “Fat lot of good that did her, huh?”
    â€œWell, we don’t know that it was her ex, but we’ll certainly check him out. Do you know where we can find him?”
    â€œEither strung out in his daddy’s big ole house or on the golf course. He’s into the drug scene. It was the reason Bonnie broke up with him. When she found out he was a user,