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I could hear her shuffling paper. “Um, Carol Roth, homicide. And we had a reference sample for Brian Roth.”
I felt like my thoughts were moving at half speed. “No match. So she did not have sex with Brian before she was killed?”
“Well, I can’t tell you if there was penetration or not. Dr. Lanza would have to be the one to determine that. There wasn’t any seminal fluid, so if she did, her partner was likely wearing a condom. But we tested some pubic hair that had been collected and the saliva that was swabbed. The pubic hair had a root, so we were able to do a comparison. It matched the saliva but didn’t match your reference.”
At least I’d been right about that much. Brian was murdered to protect whoever Carol was having sex with. Didn’t help me much, though, except to confirm what I suspected.
I almost missed what Annie said next.
“Wait, back up,” I said. “What?”
“I said that it was close. It wasn’t a match, but it was pretty darn close.”
“What does that mean?” My pulse quickened. I remembered just enough about DNA from college biology that I had a feeling I knew what it meant, but I wanted her to say it.
“Well, it’s highly possible it was someone related to your boy.”
I could almost feel my mouth hanging open. I wanted connections, and here was a whopper of one. I said something that may or may not have been articulate, then closed my phone, gripping it tightly. A rictus of a grin stretched across my face as I felt the pieces click into place.
“Good news?” Ryan prompted.
“In a roundabout way. The DNA on Carol Roth didn’t match Brian’s.”
He frowned. “And how is this good?”
“It was a partial match. There’s a good chance it was someone related to him.”
“Looks like Daddy Roth has been a bad boy,” Zack murmured with a smile.
“He killed Carol,” I said. “It may have been an accident, but he killed her.”
Ryan held up a hand. “But do you think he was capable of killing his son? I know it’s tough to know what goes on behind closed doors, but it sure seems like the two of them were close.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “He wasn’t so close that he had a problem screwing his son’s wife.” Excitement coiled within me as possibilities fell in line. “Plus, the surveillance video from Brian Roth’s subdivision shows Davis Sharp’s car entering at about eleven-thirty that night and leaving about twenty minutes later. There was someone with him too. What if it was Harris Roth? What if Harris panicked after he realized Carol was dead and called his buddy—who also happened to be his biggest political supporter?”
Ryan looked disbelieving. “I’m still having a hard time buying that Harris would be willing to murder his own son—or have him murdered—to cover this up. Screwing your daughter-in-law is one thing, but Roth looked pretty devastated at the funeral. I’m not sure he could have faked that.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to consider another possibility. “But what if Elena wasn’t having an affair with Harris Roth? What if it was Brian instead? Then perhaps Davis killed Brian for screwing his wife?”
Zack raised an eyebrow. “A crime of passion … where he kept his cool enough to go ahead and stage it as a suicide to cover up Carol’s murder?”
I grimaced. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t fit. And Elena was attracted to ‘powerful men.’ Brian didn’t really fit that bill.” I dropped my eyes to the paper. “Harris Roth is the connection to all of them. I still think Davis Sharp was somehow involved in Brian’s murder, but it doesn’t make sense yet.” Perhaps this was why Elena had been so afraid? Maybe she’d known who killed Brian. “But at least now we have something solid to work with,” I continued. I looked at Ryan. “I figure we can get a warrant for a DNA sample to run a proper comparison, plus a subpoena for Harris Roth’s cell-phone records.”
“With the partial DNA match, I’d say you’re right.”
I nodded. I wanted badly to nail Harris Roth for everything—tie all of the murders up into one nice and neat case—but we didn’t have enough proof yet. “I’ll start typing,” I said. First, nail him on Carol’s death. Then make him squeal on the rest.
Chapter 32
The subpoena for the phone records and the warrant to request a buccal swab from Harris Roth didn’t take long to type up, but it took me nearly as long to figure out what I was going to say to my sergeant. I dialed his number as I paced Tessa’s sitting room, grimacing when Crawford answered on the second ring. This would have been a lot easier to do on his voice mail. But it wouldn’t have been the best, my conscience reminded me.
“Sarge, it’s Kara Gillian.”
“What’s up?”
I quickly explained the DNA results and my theory. Crawford gave a low whistle when I finished. “Damn, Kara. You sure don’t think small, do you?”
I grimaced. “I know. But you gotta admit it makes sense.”
