Most Wanted Page 42

“I’m so sorry,” Christine said, again. She hadn’t expected to hear such a moving story.

Zachary shook his head, his lips puckering. “That was when I lost my religion, that day. I was ten but I was old enough to doubt. I don’t believe in God anymore. I don’t believe in a God who would let my little sister drown.”

Christine reeled, trying to make the comparisons on the fly, so moved by his story of his sister’s death. She remembered that Donor 3319 had said he was an agnostic or atheist. Maybe this was why. Maybe Zachary really was Donor 3319.

“Anyway, that’s why I don’t blame them. It was a hard thing to go through, as a family, and I was happy when we moved away. That’s when we went to Nevada, and I graduated from high school in Reno.”

Nevada. “Where did you go after that, did you go to college?”

“Yes, I was a good student. Math comes really easily to me, all sciences do. I’m a logical thinker.”

Christine masked her dismay. Donor 3319 was good in math and logic. She didn’t seem to have to ask anything for Zachary to keep talking.

“I graduated from the University of Arizona magna cum laude, which is pretty good.” Zachary allowed himself a brief smile, and Christine smiled back, eager to latch on to a piece of good news.

“Well done, that couldn’t have been easy. What was your major?”

“Chem.”

Christine told herself to remain calm. Donor 3319 had been a chemistry major. “What did you do after graduation?”

“I worked, trying to save up the money to go to med school, but that was a dumb way. You can’t do it without loans.”

Christine held her breath at the mention of medical school, but she didn’t interrupt him. She knew Lauren would be thinking the same thing.

“I got into medical school at the University of Nebraska, Creighton. I was so excited about being a doctor. I really wanted to work in a research capacity, like try and cure something.”

“Like what?” Christine forced a smile, but her head was exploding. It was all adding up, just like Donor 3319, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach that conclusion. She just couldn’t.

“Something, anything to help society. Advance society. But the money was an issue for med school. The tuition was $65,000 a year, and I couldn’t get enough loans. The textbooks cost way too much, like $300 a pop, even if you buy used or e-books.” Zachary leaned forward, the conversation flowing more easily now that the harder subject had passed. “I worked every job I could get. Grocery bagger, math SAT tutor, research assistant. But I couldn’t come up with tuition. I got accepted, but I never went.”

“That’s a shame.” Christine realized it explained why the news reports hadn’t said he was in medical school. He had never gone. Had Donor 3319 or was he Donor 3319?

“I hope I get back someday, but I have to get out of here.” Zachary’s forehead buckled, his desperation plain, all over again. “I’m innocent, they have the wrong guy, I swear to you. I had a life, I had a future. I don’t belong in jail. You have no idea what it’s like in here. It’s scary as hell.” Zachary’s gorgeous eyes flared. “Please, I’ll tell you anything you need to know. Do you think you could help me get a private lawyer?”

“I don’t know,” Christine answered, unprepared for the question. “I’m here to write about you—”

“But you’re not, like, a real journalist with a real newspaper.” Zachary hesitated, frowning in an apologetic way. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I meant, the other reporters told me that they have ethical guidelines. They can’t help me get a lawyer. But you can, you’re on your own.”

“But I don’t know any lawyers here. I’m not from here. Don’t you know somebody, or maybe you could just investigate a private lawyer?”

“Not from inside, all they have are defenders, and they’re not good enough.” Zachary looked from Christine to Lauren with a new urgency. “Please can’t you guys help me? I can pay, I had a job selling medical instruments. I was making $65,000 a year.”

“Medical instruments?” Christine was thinking of the medical saw in the kill bag, which she’d read about in the news reports.

“Yes, I work for Brigham Instruments in West Chester, they make medical and surgical equipment. I’ve been working for them for two years, I have money in savings.” Zachary placed his hands on the counter, leaning closer to the Plexiglas, desperate again. “Please, can’t you find me a private lawyer? I need somebody good. You’re on the outside. Go into West Chester or go online. Find me a lawyer in Chester County.” Zachary met her eye, his blue eyes plaintive. “You’re the only reporter who asked me about myself, who asked about me. You’re obviously a caring person.”

“Thank you.” Christine felt touched, oddly.

“If you find me a lawyer, I’ll give you the exclusive. I’ll cooperate with your book, and only yours. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Christine’s ears pricked up. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.

Lauren interjected, “Zachary, I have to ask, in the newspaper accounts, it said that they found things in your trunk that incriminated you, like the bone-cutting saw.”

“It’s my job to have saws in my trunk.” Zachary’s blue eyes flew open, pleading. “My trunk looks like the inside of an operating room. I drive around with samples. I demonstrate bone saws to doctors and surgeons. I don’t use my samples to kill anybody.”

Lauren paused. “Did you tell the police that?”

“My lawyer told me not to. She told me not to say a word to the cops. She told me not to answer any questions. I told you more than I told them.”

Christine found herself almost believing him. She could see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. His whole manner seemed genuinely upset. The notion confounded her, but she didn’t know whether to trust her judgment, and she still wanted to know for sure if he was Donor 3319.

Lauren interjected, “Zachary, what about the other things they found in the trunk? The shovel, the garbage bag, they said it’s called a ‘kill bag’—”

“That’s no kill bag,” Zachary shot back, urgent. “My territory includes central Pennsylvania. You ever go out there in winter? You need a shovel to get out of that snow. I keep the garbage bags because I put them under the tires when I get stuck. I practically live in that car, I carry everything I need.” Zachary’s head swiveled from Lauren to Christine. “Listen, I swear to you, on the soul of my sister, I didn’t kill Gail Robinbrecht or anybody else, no matter what they say. It’s a rush to judgment, just because I was there. I never killed anybody. I’m no serial killer!” Zachary shook his head, anguished. “That’s just a story to sell more newspapers. I haven’t been linked to any of those murders by any authority. None of the police from any of those states or the FBI has gotten in touch with me or my lawyer. None of it’s true. None of it!”

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