Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(55)
He looked at her. “Way.”
“So . . . you think he maybe nicked himself when he attacked her or—”
“This blood was old and pretty degraded, from what I understand. So more likely, he nicked himself some other time when he was using the knife. Could have been cutting a rope or dressing a deer. This knife’s got some wear and tear on it, so it’s probably been used for at least a few years.”
“But they were able to get a profile?”
“It’s all in the report. They ran a bunch of tests, and the results check out.”
“Wow.” Callie had been hopeful, but hadn’t dared to hope for anything this good. “This is big. Really big. I see now why you called me at midnight.”
He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms over his big chest as he looked her over. “It was more like eleven.”
“Whatever. I’m glad you did. My team is going to freak!”
His mouth curved up in a barely there smile.
“What? You’re laughing at me.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m excited, okay? We have our murder weapon. You totally made my day.”
“I’m not laughing at all,” he said, although he was definitely smiling at her now. “Just glad I could help.”
CHAPTER 17
Sean pulled into the Delphi Center parking lot and scanned the cars. No sign of Brooke’s white Prius. He wondered what she was doing today and whether he’d get a chance to see her. Given the morning he’d had, he figured his odds weren’t good.
Callie swung into the lot and slid into an empty space beside him.
“Thanks for meeting me,” he said as she got out.
“No problem. I was just out here a few hours ago. The guy manning the gate is getting sick of seeing me.”
Sean looked at her as they trudged up the steps to the main entrance. “So, that mean you heard back about that knife?”
“Jeez, Sean.”
“What?”
“Don’t you listen to your voice mail? Yes, I heard back about the knife. I left you a message.”
Sean opened the door for her. “Sorry. Been preoccupied. So, is it our murder weapon?”
“It is.”
He approached the reception desk and showed his ID. “We’re here to see Kelsey Quinn.”
The receptionist smiled. “I’m afraid Dr. Quinn is out this afternoon.”
“All afternoon?”
“That’s correct. She’s at a training seminar.”
This wasn’t good news. Sean knew Kelsey, and he’d been counting on that connection to help speed things along. “Who’s handling Kelsey’s autopsies?”
“That would be her new assistant, Sara Lockhart.”
“I’d like to see her, then.”
“And do you have an appointment?”
Sean just looked at the receptionist.
“Sorry.” She blushed. “Let me make a call and see . . .”
As she jumped on the phone, Sean turned to talk to Callie, who was grinning at him.
“What?”
“You flustered her,” she whispered.
Sean sighed. “So, you were saying? About the murder weapon?”
“They lifted traces of the victim’s blood and another profile, presumably the killer.”
“How can we know that?”
“Because—get this—the second DNA profile on that knife matches the DNA found under the victim’s fingernails.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Callie beamed at him.
“Damn, that’s big.”
“I know.”
“Now we need to match that profile with a suspect.”
“Easier said than done. Did you talk to Ric?”
Sean frowned. “No. What?”
“He just called me. The water bottle we submitted isn’t a match with the DNA from the victim’s nail clippings.”
“Shit.”
“I know. So, we can cross off Bradley Mahoney, which means we have to go hit our list again. And we aren’t even sure which of these guys are actually blood relatives, and which of them just share a name. We’ve got some legwork to do.”
“Jasper’s working on it.”
“Excuse me, Detective?” He turned around, and the receptionist was gazing up at him. “Dr. Lockhart is booked solid this afternoon. Would you like to leave a message for her?”
“No. I need to see her.”
“But—”
“Tell her I only need ten minutes.”
The receptionist bit her lip and picked up the phone.
Sean turned around, and Callie was grinning again. “Pushy, pushy.”
“I don’t have time to wait around all week for a bunch of official reports. We need this now.”
“Yeah, but you’re going to piss off Kelsey’s new assistant. Not good strategy. You’re going to be working with her.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Excuse me, Detective? Dr. Lockhart will see you now.” The receptionist smiled and placed a pair of visitor’s badges on the counter. “You can go on back.”
“Thank you.”