Chapter 17

17

Colin couldn’t take his eyes from the box. Waiting. Time slowing down. Anticipating the lid to clear. Seeing the secrets a sociopath straddling the line of sanity might hide.

Sierra flipped the top all the way open, then jerked back. “Oh! Oh, my!”

What in the world could it contain to make a seasoned forensic expert have such a visceral reaction?

Colin pushed forward to the table. Took a long look inside.

And then he saw the horrific sight.

His stomach roiled. Not what he expected. Not at all.

The thing that had her taking a step back. A human finger. Shriveled. Dark and smelly. The bone sticking out the end, and the skin curling toward the tip.

Brooklyn gasped and wrapped her arms around her body as she pushed away. “This is awful. Just awful,”

Dev and Reid each took a look.

“It could be our victim’s missing finger,” Reid said.

“We need to get Kelsey up here to look at it.” Blake got out his phone and dialed.

As Blake talked, Colin moved closer to her. “Are you all right?”

“It’s all a bit gruesome, right? I mean, I know Kane. Dated him even, and yet it looks like he cut off a person’s finger.” Her tone was intensifying with each word, headed toward panic. “And why? To shove it in a box and hide it under the house? Why do that?”

Colin wished he knew. It made no sense to him, and when a suspect began not to make sense, he became even more dangerous, as it often hinted at escalating in loss of control and added violence.

“That’s a question we’ll need to answer,” he said evenly to help calm her down.

“Typically we see this in a kidnapping,” Reid said, “where the kidnappers provide proof they have the victim. But they remove the finger and deliver it to the family, not put it in a lockbox.”

“There’s a burner phone in here too,” Dev said from where he stood over the box.

“I’ll take some photos, then print the phone and swab for DNA,” Sierra said. “Then I’ll need to get the phone to Nick to image it so we can see what it contains.”

From the counter on the back wall, Sierra grabbed a camera and evidence markers.

“Why the image?” Brooklyn asked, seeming as if she was coming back to rational thinking. “Why can’t we just take a look at it now?”

“Evidentiary procedures require the device to be in the same state as when discovered,” Colin said as Sierra started snapping pictures of the box.

“And just turning it on to look at the files can change the state,” Brooklyn said, catching on. “So you image it and work from the image instead of the phone.”

“Exactly,” Colin said.

Blake ended his call. “Kelsey’s on her way up. While we wait, I’ll call Grady to see if he has any information on the bullet recovered at the scene.” He stepped back again and tapped his phone’s screen.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but would you all mind if I started processing the phone?” Sierra set down her camera on the paperless end of the table. “That way Nick can get to imaging it sooner.”

“Please start,” Colin said. “Ignore us.”

She put on a clean pair of gloves, then laid fresh white paper on the table. Only then did she take out the phone and set it down. From under the table she retrieved a bin of supplies. Colin had seen prints lifted enough times to recognize the items as fingerprint powder and a brush, along with white swabs, sealed vials, and sterile water.

She adjusted a light over the phone. “Looks like some solid prints, which is where I’ll start taking DNA samples.”

She ripped open a swab package and released a few drops of sterile water onto the tip. She then rolled it over the phone, placed it in a vial, and continued to follow the same procedure a few times.

Blake came back to them. “Grady has an update, too, so we’ll go see him next.”

The door opened, and Kelsey clipped across the floor, her heels clicking and her pleated skirt swishing. The other staff paused to take notice, then returned to work, but Colin caught a few sidelong glances as if they were wondering what was going on to bring the anthropologist to their lab.

Kelsey took disposable gloves from her lab coat and slid her hands inside. “Where’s the finger?”

“In the box,” Sierra said. “No one has touched it.”

Colin stepped aside to give Kelsey room.

“It’s not fresh by any means, but has been in this box for some time.” Kelsey picked up the digit and set it on the white paper. “It’s from a left hand, that I have no doubt of.”

She measured the finger through the bag and studied it, turning it several times. “Longer than a typical female’s index finger. Still, could be a female with a long finger, but the nail and nailbed aren’t well cared for. Also it’s meaty and blunt. And the skin hasn’t aged, so I’d say young male.”

Kelsey looked up. “If I can get a clear print I could confirm that.”

Brooklyn gaped at Kelsey. “From a fingerprint?”

Kelsey nodded. “Females have significantly higher ridge density. Meaning a finer ridge than males for both radial and ulnar areas. And eighteen-year-olds and younger have higher fingerprint RD than older males.”

Brooklyn shook her head. “I’ll pretend I know what that means.”

“As long as we do is all that matters,” Sierra said. “Something else that can help is that fingerprints contain certain amino acids, and levels of these acids are twice as high in the sweat of women as in that of men.”

“So this could be the missing finger from our victim?” Colin asked.

“Could be,” Kelsey said. “Something I can confirm as well.”

Brooklyn stared at the finger. “But can you even get a print from this shriveled finger?”

“Unclear right now.” Kelsey turned the finger to stare at it. “The fingertip is quite decomposed, desiccated. Plus, it’s shriveling and rigid. This reduces my chances of obtaining clear prints.”

“Chances,” Dev said. “So it is possible?”

“Yes,” Kelsey said. “I have a variety of methods I can use to try to rehydrate it.”

“And if anyone can get a print from it, it will be Kelsey.” Sierra beamed at her colleague. “She’s tops in her field.”

Kelsey’s face burned bright red as she smiled at Sierra. “I appreciate your confidence in me, and you know I’ll do my best.”

Colin was surprised to see the humility in these professionals who were at the top of their game. They weren’t anything like the cocky scientists he’d expected to encounter.

Sierra grabbed a tablet computer sitting at the end of the table. “Let’s get the finger booked into evidence, and then you can take it to your lab.”

“How long will it take to rehydrate?” Colin asked.

“Depends on how many methods I have to try.” Kelsey retrieved an evidence bag from under the counter and started noting details on the bag with a black marker. “Investigation number?”

Sierra rattled off a long number.

Kelsey recorded it on the bag, then deposited the finger inside. “I’ll get back to you the minute I have something or if I fail.”

“You won’t.” Brooklyn smiled.

Kelsey gave a sharp nod, then spun on her heels and exited the lab.

“Can you get that phone to Nick?” Blake asked. “Or do you want me to come back and deliver it?”

“We got it.” Sierra looked up, the swab in hand. “And then, I’ll get this DNA swab to Emory and let you all know what AFIS reveals on the prints if anything.”

“Then we’re off to the firearms lab.” Blake pointed at the door. “After you.”

They took the elevator down to the first floor and headed past a conference room with glass walls to the back of the building. Dev rushed ahead of them and stopped to peer into a long window.

“Eager much?” Colin laughed.

“Hey, if the door wasn’t locked I’d already be inside.” Dev laughed.

Colin glanced in the window, where display cases were filled with copious weapons and ammunition, all with neat labels below.

“Kind of like Kelsey’s bone display, but this is much easier to look at,” Brooklyn said.

Until you thought about what guns could be used for and that this lab existed to find murderers.

Like the other spaces they’d visited, long tables sat in the middle of the room, but no one was visible.

Blake opened the door and held it for them. “Grady’s in the back with the bullet recovery containment system.”

The sound of gunshots intensified until they abruptly stopped. They filed through a doorway to the next room. Wearing hearing protection, a redheaded man with a close-cut beard stood near a big stainless steel box filled with water. A table sat next to it, holding several weapons sealed in evidence bags. The caustic smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Grady caught sight of them. He set down the gun and ripped off his headgear.

Blake introduced everyone, ending with Dev.

“The weapons enthusiast.” Grady held out a hand to Dev. “Hope the lab doesn’t disappoint.”

“Are you kidding?” His raised voice sounded like the eleven-year-old Dev who got a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas. Their mom clearly didn’t approve and worried he might shoot his eye out, like in A Christmas Story, but their dad had promised him the gun. She made sure to keep the promise, but only let him use it when supervised.

“This is amazing.” Dev spun to take it all in. “And your collection in the other room. Wow. Just wow. I could spend hours looking at it.”

“Someone’s almost always here, so feel free to stop in anytime.” Grady picked up a bagged weapon from the table.

Brooklyn pointed to the weapons on the table. “Is one of those guns from our fire?”

Grady shook his head. “I finished with the ballistics tests, so it’s tucked up in a locker along with the slug.”

“But you discovered something?” Colin asked.

“I did indeed.” He tapped the stainless steel next to him. “The slug recovered from the victim is a match to the ones I fired here from the Sig recovered at the scene.”

“How do you even figure that out?” Brooklyn stared at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Don’t mind at all, but let me warn you it can get a little technical and boring.” He grinned. “Due to the way gun barrels are machined, each one leaves behind a distinct marking on the bullets they fire. So I take the recovered weapon, fire a bullet into the water bath here. Then, for both the bullets recovered on scene and the ones from the bath here, I digitally capture the surface in 2D and 3D. This provides me with a topographic model of the marks around the bullet’s circumference. They can then be compared to each other. If they match, we can conclusively say the recovered weapon is indeed the weapon that fired the deadly bullet.”

“So the recovered Sig was the weapon used to fire the deadly shot,” she clarified.

Grady widened his stance. “It was indeed, but I’m sure Kelsey told you she can’t conclusively say this was the cause of death.”

“Right,” Dev said. “But she said few people could’ve survived such a shot. Still, we’ll for sure need to talk to Sierra again about the prints she was going to submit to AFIS.”

“Which will take her time to do,” Blake said. “We can head to our conference room for a recap while they do. Then, I’ve arranged for lunch delivery so Brooklyn doesn’t have to risk leaving the building and invited everyone who’s working the investigation to join us. They can provide any additional updates then.”

“Thank you, Blake,” Brooklyn said. “That sounds perfect.”

“Maybe thank me later if you’re able to eat with the discussions that will occur.” Blake eyed her. “We’re used to such talk, but I know it can be hard on civilians.”

Brooklyn paled, and Colin wanted to take her hand—to help her deal with all of these forensic details that were too gruesome for the average person to contemplate, much less see and hear the vivid details. But he doubted she would want him to in front of others. Maybe not do it at all. Of that, he could only hope he was wrong, as his need to take care of her was growing with every hour.

Blake had provided a hearty meal of large burritos, rice, and chips with guacamole and salsa. Colin was surprisingly hungry, despite the discussion. In addition to his team and Brooklyn, Nick, Grady, Sierra, and Emory had joined them. Kelsey was supposed to be there, but she called to say she was running late.

Blake gave them a bit of time to eat before starting the update, but he finally set down his drink and stood over his plate, still holding half a meal at the head of the table. “We’ll start with Emory and the DNA.”

“You would start with your wife.” Nick gave an ironic smile.

“No favoritism here.” Blake rolled his eyes. “She has a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Now, boys.” Emory laughed as she pushed her black glasses up her freckled nose and stood.

Colin wasn’t sure if he liked their joking or if it annoyed him. His team would be doing the same thing to lighten the tense mood if it had invaded their conference room, so he would try to let it relax him.

“After all that, I really don’t have much to report.” She ran a hand over glossy red hair. “We’re processing DNA from the front doorknob, the gun and silencer, the casing, the burner phone found in the storage box, and the box itself.”

“So everywhere Sierra took prints,” Colin clarified.

“That’s right,” Sierra said. “DNA and prints often live together on a surface, as we have touch DNA from the human hand.”

“How long will that take before we know anything?” Brooklyn held on to her burrito, dripping with sauce on her plate.

“We’ve already isolated and quantified the DNA, which can be an unusually high time suck, along with finishing the PCR process. So that’s good.” Emory had gone from laughing to technical and professional. “And the genetic analyzer is running now. That’ll take about twelve hours to complete. Then a few more hours for analysis, and we should have a match—if one exists—in law enforcement databases.”

Emory stopped to take a deep breath. “I’ve also started working on DNA we extracted from the victim, and DNA from the finger found in the box to help Kelsey determine if it is from our victim. That also should finish in about the same time frame.”

Reid picked up a chip. “Any other areas we should know about?”

She nodded. “We’re examining the few scraps of the victim’s clothing that survived the fire for touch DNA from his killer, but that will be very time-consuming and could take weeks before we find any samples of value or if we find any at all.”

“Any questions for Emory?” Blake asked.

Nos were murmured, and shakes of heads traveled around the table.

“I’m only a phone call away,” she said. “Nice to meet everyone.”

She gave Blake a sweet look, then exited the room.

“Okay, next up, Grady,” Blake said. “Do you have an update or did you just come for the food?”

“Food,” he said around a bite in his mouth. He swallowed. “Not sure I can add any more, unless anyone came up with questions since I saw you.”

Head shakes traveled around the table again.

“Then it’s up to you, Sierra.” Blake sat and grabbed his burrito.

She took a long sip of her drink, then got up to join Blake at the head of the table. She picked up stapled packets and started them down each side of the table. “The top report is a detailed analysis of the accelerant from the fire. As you can see we detected tetraethyl lead, which means it’s gasoline, as suspected, but we also noted the properties of the gasoline in the report. My team is still comparing this to the gas station samples you supplied, but at this point we don’t have a match to a particular station.”

“If you don’t find a match to a local station, could the gas have been sitting in a can on the property for some time so the station’s gasoline might now be different?” Colin asked.

“Ooh, very good question.” Sierra’s eyes widened. “Yes, that’s quite possible as is the possibility that it wasn’t purchased locally. I should be able to get the final results on the local stations to you this afternoon. If we don’t have a match, then if you want to expand your area of comparison, I’m glad to process additional samples.” She tapped her packet. “Next, I think you’ll be interested to see the analysis on the animal fur found in the enclosure, so turn the page for that.”

Colin quickly flipped to look at the animal results, then flashed his gaze up to Sierra. “A jaguar? Tarver was housing a jaguar in his kennel?”

“Yes,” Sierra said. “He had the big cat in conditions way too restrictive for such a fine animal, but yes, he was keeping a jaguar in that kennel.”

“Or could someone before him have done that?” Colin asked.

“Good question, again,” Sierra said. “We can’t age the hair, so yes, it could’ve been there for some time. However, I can tell you the sample we took wasn’t degraded. But fur, just like human hair, takes a long time to decompose. The caveat to that is, it all depends on the location of the fur and the conditions it’s exposed to. A nice dry kennel like where we located it would aid in the fur surviving intact longer. But—” she paused, her finger raised—“we also recovered animal scat with a high moisture content.”

“Which means it’s fresh,” Colin said, as using scat in tracking was their team’s wheelhouse. “And if the scat is from a jaguar, it makes the fur likely fresh too.”

“Exactly.” Sierra smiled. “So, if your suspect has been at that house for more than a week, he was likely keeping the jaguar.”

“We don’t know how long he’s been there, though.” Dev looked at Nick. “You find any connection to Kane regarding animal trafficking?”

Nick set down his water bottle. “I’ve been searching for something to tie him to it, but haven’t found anything. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, but I suspect I would find it on the dark web, and it usually takes me longer to find data there.”

Colin didn’t have to ask about the dark web. Not when he’d spent years perusing the part of the internet where the average Joe didn’t have any reason to access, but where criminals thrived. With much of the data encrypted and hard to extract, Nick had his work cut out for him.

“Sheriff Day might know about wildlife trafficking in the area where Tarver was living,” Dev said. “I’ll check in with her to see if she has any information.”

“What about fingerprints, Sierra?” Blake asked. “Anything concrete yet?”

“Next page of my report.” She turned the page on her packet and held it up. “I received results from AFIS. We found the same print on every item, and the database confirms it’s a match to Kane Tarver.”

“Not a surprise,” Colin said. “But good to see it confirmed in black and white.”

“Which means odds are good that he shot the victim.” Brooklyn’s voice was so low and strangled, Colin had to sit on his hands not to reach for her.

Sierra nodded. “Though of course we can’t concretely prove that he picked up the gun and fired it. The forensic evidence would speak to that.”

Colin scanned the page, disappointment settling in. “No other prints recovered, though?”

Sierra frowned. “I have one partial from the doorknob, but it’s not enough for a solid comparison.”

“So, no luck then on our victim’s ID?” Dev asked.

“Normally I would say no, but we have been working with an engineering student to evaluate fingerprinting using AI. He developed an AI-based system that has learned to correlate a person’s unique prints with great accuracy.”

Dev’s mouth fell open. “Artificial Intelligence in fingerprinting. Is nothing safe these days?”

“How does it work?” Colin asked.

Sierra set down her papers. “The system analyzes the curvature of the fingerprint’s center swirls rather than the minutiae or endpoints in its ridges. Of course, this is controversial at this point and not accepted at all, but it’s possible I can get a lead for you. If I do, it most definitely won’t be accepted as standard practice or hold up in a court of law.”

Colin shook his head. “AI is taking over the world.”

“I hear you,” Sierra said. “Most disturbing about this student’s work is that he claims to have proven not every fingerprint is unique. Something we’ve believed and lived by in criminal courts.”

“Wow!” Reid slapped his hands on the table. “That could open a real can of worms.”

“If it proves to be founded, it could indeed rock our system. Would give many inmates whose convictions are based on fingerprints cause for appeal.”

Dev shook his head. “I’ve been glad to be out of law enforcement, but I keep learning even more reasons why it was a good decision.”

“Amen to that,” Reid said.

The phone sitting on the table near Nick rang.

He lifted the handset. “Conference room.” He listened. “Oh, hey, Kels.”

He listened again and frowned. “Okay. Sure. I’ll tell them.”

He hung up and turned to the group. “That was Kelsey. She managed to plump the finger found in the box to get a print. She wants to see you in her lab as soon as you finish here.”

Colin didn’t care if he finished lunch. He pushed to his feet and started for the door. He had to think she wanted to see them because she had an ID. At least, that was his hope. Maybe the man’s identity would lead to finding Kane Tarver and having him arrested for murder.