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I punched the disconnect button, wanting to hurl my cell phone through the windshield of my rental car. But I summoned every reserve of control I had left and told Bree and the others about the lab report.
“There is no way Jannie could have run like she did the other day if she was on coke and speed,” Bree said.
“Yeah,” Pinkie said. “Can’t they see that?”
“Evidently not, until we’ve got evidence that says otherwise,” I said and told them about Greene’s agreement to let the FBI’s lab be the final word.
“That works,” Pinkie said.
It did, and I started to calm down. Then something about the whole issue of drugs in the bloodstream and in the urine made me ask, “Naomi, has anyone run drug tests on the semen off Rashawn’s body and the Lawrence girl’s underwear?”
She thought about that, said, “Not that I know of.”
“Do you have access to those samples?”
“We received small subsamples that we are free to use to conduct our own tests,” she said. “They’re at the office.”
“Get them and bring them to our house,” I said, then I turned to Bree. “Get Jannie’s samples from our fridge and what Naomi brings you and pack it all up. Pinkie will take you to the Winston-Salem airport.”
“Okay…”
“Buy a round-trip ticket to National Airport,” I said. “I’ll call my friends at Quantico. Someone will meet you when your plane lands. You’ll go home, check on the house, fly back here in the morning.”
“You think this drug test might help Stefan?” Pinkie said.
“Depends on the results,” I said.
“And what are you going to do while I’m gone?” Bree asked.
“Pay Detective Pedelini a visit, and maybe Marvin Bell too.”
Chapter
84
By the time I reached Pedelini’s office, the detective had left for the day.
I drove to the lake, following the directions Bree had given me, and found the house where she’d watched Finn Davis deliver a payoff to Pedelini. It was a nice place, gorgeous lot, big house, well cared for, with a swing on the grass and a dock. It faced east, and I thought that the dawns must be special there.
I drove on, parked behind Detective Pedelini’s car, and went around and up onto the deck. Inside, the television was playing, a baseball announcer calling a game. Over that there was the louder sound of children giggling, and I smelled baking chicken. I knocked on the screen door.
“Daddy!” a girl called. “There’s someone at the door.”
I heard him say something that sounded like “I’m busy with the cat. Go see who it is.”
A second later, a pretty girl about ten came to the door, said, “Hello?”
“Hello to you,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Tessa Pedelini.”
“Tessa Pedelini, can you tell your father that Alex Cross is here to see him?”
She nodded and scampered away to relay the message.
There was a pause, and then I heard Pedelini say, “Here, you help her, then. Slow, right?”
“Right,” Tessa said.
