Font Size:  

I end the call and tug on a new pair of gloves. “It’s from one of the offices at Lark and Gannet.”

Aubrey nods. “I heard about the search.” Prepared, he unseals the evidence bag. “Let’s hope there’s enough DNA to determine a profile.”

I eye the gold pen, gleaming like a beacon in the bright florescent lights. Let’s hope that whatever DNA found on Maddox’s pen won’t be another message from the Alpha.

I watch Aubrey swab the base and pen. Depending on when the blood was transferred, any number of contaminants could’ve degraded the blood. Cleaning agents, bleach. We might only be able to prove the presence of blood, not rebuild a DNA profile if there’s not enough to quantify a sample.

The scientist in me begs for enough to put through the amplification process. The little dark angel on my shoulder wants to submerge the pen in acid.

“Isolating a sample will be difficult,” I say as I open a vial for Aubrey to place the swab. “Without a large enough sample, extraction will be tricky.”

He glances up at me, a smug smile on his face. “I’ve never heard doubt in your voice before.” He removes the pen from the holder. “Besides, we both know that if someone intentionally tried to clean the blood, they usually miss a spot.”

My lungs contract, my breath bated, as Aubrey swabs the inside of the holder.

“Bingo.” He brings out the swab. The tip holds a remnant of dried blood.

I drop the vial and curse. “Let me get a new container.”

“I don’t think extraction or building the DNA will be the difficult part,” he says. “Finding a comparison to test against is our obstacle.”

It hits me then. The brain fog I’ve been subjected to vanishes, clouds parting to reveal an obvious oversight. I tamp down the urge to berate myself. I can loathe what I’ve become another day. Right this second, I want to remember what it feels like to work without distractions.

“Where are you going?” Aubrey asks as I shuffle past interns to get to a computer.

I hold up a finger to him, entering my passcode one-handed. I locate the first victim’s COD report and send it to my tablet. Within seconds, I’m pulling up a diagram I drew of the possible murder weapon.

“Bingo,” I say, flipping the screen around toward Aubrey. “I bet if we measure the pen, we’ll get a match to the wound in Marcy Beloff’s liver.”

After a moment of studying the pattern, Aubrey looks up. “I’m impressed. We’ll start a comparison right away.”

I release a shaky breath, relief pushing through my lingering anxiety. I can work this. I can get back to doing what I love to do. And I can shove the damn fear aside. If I’m right, and Marcy’s DNA is a match to the blood on the pen, then it’s a real link between Maddox and the murders.

Quinn.

I’m tempted to call him so I can hear the reflected relief in his voice. He might have planted Maddox’s fingerprint in the system…but he didn’t frame him. Not in the way he thinks. With just one conclusive test, he’ll be able to release that guilt for good.

I dive into work with renewed energy. I can lose my grasp on reality, allowing the fear of the unknown to pile on top of me until I can’t breathe, can’t escape. Or I can break through the glass and grasp the last semblance of taking back control over my life.

The Alpha can threaten me, but he can’t steal my ability to choose. Quinn is strengthening me physically, but my mind has always been my strongest asset. I can’t let myself doubt that—not anymore.

I choose to fight.

7

Unravel

Quinn

A mountain of evidence is piled up in Maddox’s office. Convenient evidence. Communications between Maddox and Dorian McGregor prove preparation for the auction, and receipts show purchases linking Maddox to the victims.

If not for the fact that the Alpha threatened Avery, I could almost believe we’re on the same sick team. The Alpha wants Maddox buried.

A series of camera flashes light up the office as the documenting begins. I sidestep the techs and move into the hallway.

I have one last area to search before I’m satisfied.

According to Larkin, the office of Price Wells has remained unoccupied since his death. The door is open a crack as I approach, and I nudge it with a gloved knuckle.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like