The Kept Woman (Will Trent, #8)

‘Oh, sorry. My bad.’

‘I haven’t received her blood type yet.’ Sara checked her phone to make sure a text hadn’t come in from Amanda. She wondered again if something had happened. Will had a habit of agreeing with Amanda, then doing whatever he wanted. Sara used to find that attractive.

Gary asked, ‘Is Mrs Polaski’s DNA on file from when she was a cop?’

Instead of telling him they could probably find an intact sample on Sara’s lipstick, she answered, ‘It’s unlikely unless she was a rule-out at a crime scene. She worked vice, so there probably wasn’t a need.’ Sara forced her thoughts to stay on the task at hand. ‘DNA is the gold standard, but the typing is a significant finding. B-negative is found in only two percent of Caucasians, one percent of African Americans and well under a half a percent in the remaining ethnic groups.’

‘Wow. Thank you. That there is some mad science, Dr Linton.’ Gary took out his pen and filled in the next card without being asked. His letters were neat capitals that easily fit in the square provided. LEFT STAIR BLOODY FOOTPRINT A.

He said, ‘So, the water first, right?’

‘Just a pin drop.’ She kept silent while Gary processed the next kit. He really was a fast learner. When he mixed the blood, his margins inside the circles were better than hers. He started to turn the card, holding it in place for ten seconds before turning it again, then again. As before, the blood clotted on B-negative.

She told him, ‘Type the sample from Harding’s neck.’

Gary had taken a swab because there wasn’t a lot of blood. He had to use a blade to cut the cotton tip into sections, then use water to free the blood. He went through the same steps with the card. This time, only the circle for D clotted. He asked, ‘Did I do something wrong?’

‘He’s Opositive, the most common blood type for Caucasians, but the important part is this makes Harding a definite rule-out for the footprint and the spatter on the stairs.’ She handed him another kit. ‘Let’s try the sample of blood from the room where Harding died.’

There was a loud knock on the door. Both Sara and Gary jumped at the noise.

‘Good Lord God.’ Charlie held up his camera as he climbed into the van and slid down to the floor. ‘I thought I was going to burst into flames inside that room.’ He closed his eyes and breathed the cold air for a few seconds.

Gary started the next kit. Sara handed Charlie a paper towel to wipe his face. He was soaked through with sweat. They would need to get some fans in the building before they continued. It was August. Even tonight when the sun set, the temperature would only dip a few degrees.

‘Okay.’ Charlie tossed the paper towel into the trashcan. ‘I’ve been activating the luminol inside the other rooms.’

Sara nodded. Luminol was activated by a black light that made the enzymes in blood glow an ethereal blue. The reaction lasted for a few seconds, and only happened once, which was why it was important to have a camera to record the process.

She asked Charlie, ‘Anything good?’

‘Oh yeah. I’ve got it right here.’ Charlie switched on the LED on the back of the camera and started toggling through the pictures. ‘By the way, I found some blood spray on the unicorn, which could mean the bullet went through somebody.’

‘A lot of spray or a little spray?’

‘More like a sneeze.’

‘That’s not enough to test with the EldonCard. We’ll have to go with DNA.’ For Gary’s sake, she added, ‘There’s no time stamp on blood. Could be some raver sneezed out some blood three months ago.’

Charlie said, ‘Nobody knows the trouble that unicorn has seen.’ His thumb worked the scroll on the camera. Rorschachs of bright blue spatters and splatters flashed across the LED.

‘Dr Linton?’ Gary held up the card he’d just processed. ‘More B-negative.’

Charlie asked him, ‘By any chance, did you take a sample from the second room from the left stair?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Gary checked the vials. ‘I found some blood on the floor, back right corner. And I triple-checked the label before I went to the next one, just like you said.’

‘Good boy.’ Charlie said, ‘Type it for me, please.’

Gary waited for Sara to give him the nod to proceed.

She asked Charlie, ‘What’s going on? Did you find something?’

‘Oh, I found something.’

Sara wasn’t one for cliffhangers, but she let Charlie have his fun. For the most part, forensic work was the least glamorous part of policing. It wasn’t like on television, where impeccably dressed, beautiful crime scene techs plucked clues from thin air, waved around guns, interrogated the bad guys, then carted them off to jail. Fifty percent of Charlie’s job was paperwork and the remaining fifty percent had his eye to either a camera or a microscope. He had probably found an unusual pattern of spatter on a ceiling, or the forensic Holy Grail: a viable fingerprint left in fresh blood.

‘There it is.’ Charlie sounded triumphant. He held out the camera so that Sara could see for herself.

The display showed the familiar chemiluminescence—bright glowing blue against the dark graffitied background, almost like an X-ray. Instead of an unusual blood pattern or a clear fingerprint, there were two words written in blood: HELP ME.

‘Dr Linton?’ Gary had finished the test card. ‘It says B-negative, just like the other two.’

Charlie verified, ‘Gary, you’re sure that blood was taken from the second room, which is where I found this note?’

‘Yes, sir. Positive. Triple positive.’

‘Sara?’ Charlie waited. ‘Did you get Angie’s blood type from Amanda yet?’

She couldn’t find it in herself to answer. Her eyes would not leave the glowing image on the camera. She stared at the two words, absorbing the familiar disjointed cursive like radiation into her brain.

Both of the Es were written like backward 3s.

Amanda opened the back door. She held out her hand for Charlie to help her into the van. Gary stood to offer his chair. Amanda took in his tattoos and gold chain and scowled. ‘Young man, wait for me outside.’

Gary quickly followed orders, gently clicking the door shut behind him.

Amanda sat in the vacated chair. She told Sara, ‘Will is searching the office building across the street.’ Her tone was accusatory, as if Sara could have stopped him. ‘The structural engineer said the whole damn thing is about to fall down, but Will wouldn’t listen. I can’t send anyone in after him without risking a lawsuit if the building collapses.’

Sara handed Amanda the camera.

‘What’s this?’ Amanda looked down at the screen. She stared at the words for a good long while. ‘You recognize the handwriting?’

Sara nodded. She had gotten so many nasty notes over the last year that she knew Angie’s handwriting almost better than her own.

Amanda said, ‘For now, let’s make sure this message goes no further than the three of us. Will doesn’t need anything else to set him off.’

Charlie said, ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Sara found she couldn’t answer.

Amanda said, ‘Records finally sent me Angie’s file.’ She let the camera rest in her lap. Her shoulders slumped. She seemed suddenly tired, older than her sixty-four years. ‘Please tell me that none of the blood you found is B-negative.’





THREE