“What are you thinking?” Lincoln opened one then the other bag for Carter to drop each hair into.
“Dr. Fear leaves no evidence, right? So, per your lessons, we have to use archival data and documents, our own observational skills, and the one clue we do have to identify likely avenues of investigation. All we know at this point is that they’re likely someone who lived or worked in Apex through the span of Dr. Fear’s cycles.”
“Which, one, is too big a suspect pool, and two, Jeremiah’s too young.”
“But maybe not someone from his family. He tell you he was from here?”
Lincoln nodded. “Family goes multiple generations back.”
“Right, so normally it’d be tough to test for genetic relevance in a college town, as a large segment of the population is always turning over due to the university, but the size of the actual permanent population in Apex is relatively small and, from what I gathered talking to folks last night and today, much of it is like Jeremiah’s family. They’ve been here for generations, and many of them have intermarried.”
Lincoln was nodding enthusiastically now. “Multigenerational founding families. That’s a much more manageable suspect pool and someone from one of those families is more likely to be stationary here in Apex for the span of Dr. Fear’s cycles.” His brow furrowed and he drummed his fingers on the table. “Of course, there’s the possibility it’s someone on staff at Apex who has been here the entire time.”
“Granted,” Carter conceded. “We need to follow that lead as well. Dig deeper into the university records. But for this investigative avenue, if we assume Dr. Fear does belong to a founding family, who has been in this isolated area for multiple generations . . .” He held up the evidence bags, Jeremiah’s a little higher.
“Those families will have higher incidences of genetic mutations and other hereditary conditions. A founder variant.”
“A variant like premature graying, which would narrow the suspect pool even more. You were probably too nervous to notice, but at the party last night and the café this morning, there were multiple other baby silver foxes. Plus Jeremiah and Lydia—she can’t be that much older than me—and probably more in their families.”
Lincoln rested back against the end of the table. “That’s a relatively high incidence rate of premature graying in a town this size.”
“Not to mention all the other gray hairs we don’t have data on—Barry, Larry, probably also your predecessor, Harry. I saw a bunch of pictures of them at the police station. They were all gray by thirty.”
Lincoln held up his hands, fingers spread. “Wait, slow down. Who’s Larry?”
“Barry’s younger brother, the current police chief.” Carter rolled up each of the bags. “A quick Google search told me that premature graying is often connected with thyroid conditions or autoimmune diseases.”
“Which can be a genetic founder variant in a population this size. If there are other, more serious mutations, that could help us narrow the suspect pool further.”
“That’s where you and all the fancy lab equipment come in.” He handed the bags to Lincoln. “I’ve officially reached the limit of my genetics and genealogy know-how.”
Lincoln pushed off the table, drawing closer to him this time. “That limit is higher than what I taught you, Agent Warren. This is more than a passing interest.”
“I’m an investigator. Nothing more to it.”
Honey-colored eyes cut to the single messy pile of papers left on Carter’s table. Carter shifted, cutting off his view. “Test the hairs, L. I’m going to stay here and do some research on the founding families and on longtime university staff. See if anything else jumps out.”
Lincoln grumbled a protest but began packing his bag. “We’re coming back to this,” he said, halfway to the door.
“I’m sure, Professor. Now go.”
And he did, still wearing Carter’s coat.
Carter’s smile hardly wavered as he bypassed the messy stack on his way to grabbing another box of archives.
Lincoln scrolled through the data the sequencer was feeding to his computer. It was a limited screen—it would take too long to fully sequence his and Jeremiah’s DNA—so he’d set it to search for certain markers, based on his and Carter’s earlier speculation. And it had found one. “Bingo!”
“What’ve you got?”
Lincoln almost fell off his stool, limbs flailing in surprise. Once he had them and his balance back under control, he glared at his partner in the doorway. “Are you secretly a ninja?”
Carter chuckled. “No, just a well-trained soldier who excelled at stealth approach.”
Lincoln was going to make a snide remark about the impossibility of someone who was so loud in his class being so quiet, but then Carter tossed Lincoln’s too-small-for-him coat on the back of the empty desk chair and snagged his own off the one Lincoln had dropped his bag into. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said instead. “I totally walked out in your coat.”
“It’s fine,” Carter said with a smirk. He claimed the bench stool next to Lincoln. “Unless you want to heat me up, Professor.”
He stifled the “yes” that wanted to escape with snark instead. “I will heat you up with data.”
