She floors him by saying, “You too, huh?”
“It’s not just me? I was worried...”
Juliet coughs a laugh. “No. I’ve never seen her like this. Half the time she is so distracted she doesn’t seem to be in the room, the rest of the time she’s hovering over Mindy and Jasper like they’re gold nuggets.”
“I see that as well.”
“And I’m a traitor for even thinking something negative about her. She’s a damn saint. She always has been. And with Mindy... Zack, you don’t understand. Mindy is her world, her life. Of course she’s stressed and things are weird. She’s half expecting her daughter to die. I think she’s trying to distance herself a bit, thinking that might somehow lessen the blow if it does happen.”
“Mindy’s noticed it, too. We talked about how uncomfortable everyone is about her cancer. It’s bothering her, not being treated normally.”
“Mindy told you that?”
“Yes. She hates that everyone’s being so optimistic and upbeat. She’d like, for once, and I quote—‘someone to get pissed off and rail against God or something.’”
Juliet laughs for real this time. “She trusts you. That’s good. She’s complained to me as well over the past few weeks, especially about how her parents are pretending everything is going to be peaches and roses when there’s a good chance she won’t make it.”
“Totally understandable. Are you sure Lauren isn’t holding something else back? Maybe something she admitted to Jasper, and now he’s trying to pull up the drawbridge and save her?”
“I don’t know, Zack. I really don’t. I told you before, we aren’t close. I’m the last person she confides in, and then it’s only out of sheer need, not a desire for comfort or even advice.” The bitterness and hurt come through loud and clear.
“I’m sorry this has been so difficult on you, Juliet. Is there any news on the investigation?”
“No. I should probably reach out.”
“I’ll do it. I’m not recused.”
“Yeah, that was a stupid thing for me to do. I should have fought to stay involved, at least with the DNA.”
“You can’t, and you know it. But I’m sure if you wanted to call, they’d talk to you.”
“Thanks, Zack. You’re a good guy. You’re handling this better than the rest of us.”
He sighs loudly. “It’s not that I’m handling it better, Juliet. I’ve just had longer to come to terms with it.”
71
THE WRIGHTS’ HOUSE
Juliet hangs up with Zack feeling marginally better, but still edgy. Her next call is to Woody, whose voice mail comes on almost immediately. Ducking her calls? Maybe.
She speed dials Bai next. He answers, breathless.
“Shit is hitting the fan, chica. Where are you right now?”
“In my car, heading to my sister’s house to grab my bags. I’m being evicted. Why?”
“I need you on a computer. On secure connection. As quickly as you can. And I’m serious when I say secure.”
“Okay. I’m pulling in the driveway now. I’ll use Lauren’s computer. Why, what did you find?”
“You don’t have your laptop?”
“It’s back at the hospital. I sort of stormed out. What the heck, man?”
“I need your eyes on something. I know you’re recused, but...”
“Give me five and I’ll call you back.”
“Juliet...”
“What?”
“Just...make sure the line is secure, okay? Really secure. I have to send you a case file.”
“Jesus, Bai. What’s going on?”
“Juliet, please.”
“Give me five. I’ll call you right back.”
She lets herself in the front door and goes straight to the office. Lauren’s pass code is Mindy’s birthday—of course it is. Lauren isn’t worried about people stealing things off her computer.
Juliet logs in and downloads a private VPN service. It won’t make things completely secure, but it will help. Then she downloads a secure email server called Virtru, which will encrypt any messages sent between her and Bai, and creates a throwaway email that she can self-destruct when they are finished. It isn’t perfect, but it’s the best she can do on a moment’s notice, and she will be able to erase all traces of herself on the computer after she is through.
She dials Bai, puts him on the speaker.
“Okay, I’m in and secure. Here’s the email address.” She listens while he types it in, then hears the whoosh of the mail server sending the message.
It pops up on her screen moments later.
She opens it to see a DNA profile.
“What’s this?”
He is whispering, like someone is nearby, possibly listening. “This is a DNA profile from Vivian Armstrong’s crime scene. According to the evidence, it’s always been attributed to the midwife. Thing is, that’s not at all whose it is. But I did find a match in the system.”
“That’s great news. Whoever it is might be the killer, and who took Mindy. Tell me.”
She hears another whoosh. “Check the email I just sent.”
This one contains two DNA profiles, side by side. It takes her all of ten seconds to see they are a perfect match. Just to be sure, she scans the ID—the bottom right corner of each profile holds the identification data, coded by number to maintain the privacy of the samples for the lab, and avoid any intrusion or personal bias by Juliet or her staff when they run the DNA. It’s fail-safe. These numbers also match.
“Don’t keep me in suspense any longer, Bai. Do you have a name or only a number match?”
“Juliet, you did not hear this from me, okay?”
“Bai. Spit it out.”
“The profile belongs to Lauren. Your sister was at the Armstrong crime scene.”
72
The shock of the words slams into her. It takes her a minute to catch her breath. When she can speak again, she says, “What are you talking about? There’s no way Lauren was there. She was in Colorado. The baby...the doctor... Bai, there must be a mistake.”
“I ran it four times. There’s no mistake. The evidence team from Nashville has your sister’s DNA, but they don’t have the report yet. I had to let you know first.”
“Have you told anyone else?”
“No. But there’s no way I can keep this quiet.”
“I know, I know.” She holds her head in both hands. Think, Juliet. Think.
Zack’s voice comes to her. There’s something off about your sister.
“Juliet? Are you there?”
“I am. Bai, can you give me an hour before you tell anyone?”
“Oh God, Juliet. I—”
“I know what I’m asking. I don’t blame you if you say no. But one hour, Bai. Just enough for me to talk to Lauren and find out what the hell is going on. Please.”
He is silent for a moment, then she hears a click. “I’ve set a timer. One hour, Juliet, and then I have to tell Woody. And you sure as hell better act surprised when he calls to tell you, because I refuse to lose my job over this.”
“You’re the best, Bai. Thank you so much.”
She slams down the phone and prints out the email. If she is going to confront Lauren, she is going to need proof.
But what kind of proof is this? Other than somehow her sister’s DNA is in Vivian Armstrong’s house. That’s all it is, right? It doesn’t mean...
She cleans her tracks from the computer and shuts it down. Sits for a moment, at the perfect marble-topped desk, staring at the paper with the samples side-by-side, the match clear as day.
Oh, Lauren. You really have been lying to all of us.
She steps out onto the deck. The day is gorgeous, unseasonably warm, sunny with blue skies and a few white clouds. Another big storm is coming tomorrow, a blizzard, estimated to drop anywhere from a foot to two feet of snow. Good timing, it will chase off the reporters for a little while, make them hunker down in their hotel rooms. No one wants to stand outside in a blizzard hoping for a glimpse of a sick kid.
The sense of the world spinning, rushing toward her, is palpable. The stream next to the house gurgles in warning, as if it too knows it’s going to be overwhelmed on the morrow. Her tears start to fall; she brushes them away angrily.
She needs to talk to Zack.
She dials his number with shaking hands. He answers right away.