The Killing Game(80)

“What is that?” she asked Luke.

“The wrapper for some kind of energy bar,” Luke said. “The foil’s a perfect medium for fingerprints, but there aren’t any on it at all.”

“Trini’s would be on it if she’d unwrapped it.”

“Exactly. Maybe it was wiped clean, but then why would it be left at all?”

“What do you think it means?”

He shook his head.

Marjorie had consulted with one of the other techs, who was working on a laptop. “Denton,” she called, waving him over. Andi followed, keeping her eyes averted from the black bag that held her friend.

“This particular energy bar is made with cricket flour. See the cricket on the label? If we had more of the wrapper, we would see the warning.”

“What warning?” Luke asked.

“Crickets are in the same family as shellfish.”

Luke looked from the computer screen to Andi, who was still processing. “Oh my God,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “You’re saying it was a mistake? She ate something basically with shellfish in it?”

“The warning’s pretty large,” Marjorie said, turning the computer screen for Andi to see it. On the back of the foil-wrapped bar, the one currently on the screen, was a large black circle with a slash through it over the words cricket flour. Below it was a warning that crickets were in the shellfish family.

The heavyset detective who’d asked Andi all the questions was in a conversation with one of the other techs about the wallet. He looked up and noticed Marjorie exchanging information with them and a frown creased his face. Seeing him start their way, Luke recognized trouble. “Thanks, Marjorie,” he said, pulling Andi to one side.

“You need to wait outside,” the detective told him, his uncompromising gaze encompassing Andi as well. He then shot a warning look at Marjorie, who ignored him.

Luke shepherded Andi back onto the deck outside the apartment. He checked to make sure they were out of earshot, then said, “If she was as careful as you say, it’s a little surprising she didn’t see it. It’s pretty obvious.”

“She would have seen it, wouldn’t she? She would have seen it.”

“Don’t know how she wouldn’t have noticed it,” Luke admitted. “I wonder whose wallet they have.” He glanced back toward the detective, who was standing just inside, gazing their way. “That detective . . . Thompkins. He’s with the Laurelton PD, but I don’t know him.”

“How could Trini miss it?” Andi asked. “I don’t understand.”

“She would have seen it. Unless . . .”

“What?”

“Unless she was handed the bar, unwrapped.”

“Somebody gave it to her? And she just didn’t know?” Andi whispered. Her gaze traveled back to the open doorway and the detective. “But the wrapper was near her hand.”

“Part of it. The foil would show some kind of print or mark, but it’s been wiped clean. It was just sitting beside her left hand, and it was just the piece with a bit of the warning. So where’s the rest of the wrapper?”

He was talking to himself more than to her.

“What are you saying?” Andi asked, her voice barely audible.

“I don’t know yet. The wrapper . . .”

Luke didn’t like the idea that was formulating in his brain, that someone had deliberately fed Trini the bar and then left the foil on the couch for the authorities to find, a kind of gloating, a See what I’ve done! meant to show how smart he or she was.

“Who knew she was allergic to shellfish?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Lots of people. She didn’t keep it a secret. She wanted people to know, just in case she missed something, so someone else might come to her rescue.”

“What about this boyfriend?” Luke asked.

“He’s allergic, too. She told me that.” Andi shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “She was meeting him last night. I was supposed to finally meet him tonight. You think that’s his wallet?”

“He’s allergic to shellfish, too?”

“That’s what she said.”

“The police are going to want to talk to him. We need to, too.”

“The detective, Thompkins, already asked me about Bobby. If it’s his wallet, they know more about him than I do. He came to one of her classes and he was buttoned-down, not her type at all, and I think he wore glasses and maybe a hairpiece, but like I said, I never met him.”

“She was a Pilates instructor.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Look, I’m going to take you home, and then I’m going to try to talk with Thompkins some more. They may rule this an accident, but I want to be sure.”

“Luke ...”

He looked at her.

“My friend Trini ... her full name is Trinidad Finch.”

“Okay.” He was anxious to talk to the detective.

She didn’t say anything else but was looking at him hard. Luke ran her friend’s name through his mind and felt a zing of surprise, followed by the chill of realization. “Her last name is a bird, too.”

“Do you think ... I mean, am I crazy to think there’s a connection? That last note ...”