"The question is whether there's a murderer among them," Matt said. "Premeditated or not. Pushing that cart around on its wheels could be a one-person job. Or they all could have been involved."
I was glad Matt didn't expect an answer to his musings. The case was upsetting me enough as it was.
"What's our strategy at the meeting?" I asked him. "Do we pretend we're just there to tap into their fluorine expertise or do we have the handcuffs ready?" I hadn't meant to sound so peeved.
He leaned over and rubbed my neck. "It's not personal," he said, in that voice that would have made him a wonderful doctor.
"I know. I promise I'll be open."
Matt was kind enough not to mention that it would be a first for me.
****
Matt and I walked with a security escort down one of the few unclassified hallways, our visitor badges resting on our chests. I'd been here often, but with the anticipation of learning about the thermodynamic properties of fluorine compounds or the latest in heat transfer analysis.
The Charger Street Lab was its own city in many ways, its relationship to Revere much like that called "town and gown," when a large university was located in an otherwise small city. The Lab had several cafeterias and classrooms, a research library, a fully equipped gym, an Olympic-size swimming pool, and its own infirmary.
Usually I'd walk in on a busy group—Stan setting up the display screen for the monthly presentations, Carson and Danielle moving chairs around, Teresa and Peter arranging pads, pencils, and, best of all, fresh pastry from Luberto's downtown bakery.
This morning, the room was empty. No scientists, and no pastry.
"I'll let them know you're here," our escort said, without a trace of warmth.
"I wonder why the cold treatment," I said, when he'd left. I hadn't even tried to keep sarcasm out of my tone.
Matt was smart enough to forgo comment. Instead he walked around the small room checking out the photographs on the wall. One side was lined with depictions of complex molecules. "Are these all fluorine compounds?" he asked. He knew how to distract me.
I nodded. "Fluorine is much too active an element not to be in a compound. Those are all the basics." I walked along the wall with him, naming the few that I recognized on sight.
"This place smells," Matt said, with an exaggerated sniff. "Like acid, or something worse. Not like physics departments, which always have a pleasant aroma."
I smiled, loving his attempts to soothe me.
We moved to the other side of the room, where photographs of humans took precedence, some formal, others candids from conference gatherings. One shot was from the group picnic only a month ago. I was glad now that I hadn't been able to attend; I felt I was no longer a part of the team.
The door opened and the fluorine research group filed in. I heard a soft "hey" from Teresa, but nothing from the three men. They took seats along one side of the table; Matt and I sat across from them. The arrangement looked too much like a police line-up to suit me.
Stan, in a white lab coat today instead of his green sweater, clutched his special coffee mug with a drawing of the molecular structure of caffeine. Teresa and Carson both looked at me with suspicion, as if I'd betrayed our friendship by showing up with a police officer. Peter wore his nerdiest frown, looking down on the conference room table as if he were studying chess moves.
I drew in my breath. Danielle was missing. I sincerely hoped she was shopping, and not … I couldn't go there.
Matt cleared his throat. "Good morning, everyone. Thanks for meeting us." He looked down at his notebook, and took attendance in as pleasant a way as possible. I figured this was the most benign looking group of suspects he'd seen lately.
"Where's Danielle?" I asked. "Is she in today?"
I'd been looking at Stan, but it was Teresa who answered. "I haven't seen her this morning. As you know, she's a student and keeps funny hours."
"Does she usually call in and let you know when she's going to be here?" Matt asked.
"Most of the time she'll check to see if there's something special we need her for," Peter said. "But not today."
"I think she was going somewhere for a long weekend," Carson offered.
I thought of a dozen reasons why Danielle didn't call in, from a summer cold to a very long date. Still, my stomach churned.
"We appreciate your taking time to talk to us," Matt told the team. "I'm sure you're all very busy and I'll try to keep this short."
Stan folded his arms across his chest. "Happy to oblige," he said, sounding anything but.
Nods and murmurs of "yeah" and "right" rippled across the row of researchers.