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“We meet again,” Amanda said.
“Detective Steele,” Blair said coolly. She smiled at Trent. “Detective Stenson.”
“Evening,” he said.
“We’ve already started processing the vehicle.” She headed down a hallway and motioned for them to follow. “There’s a lot of potential evidence in prints alone. We still haven’t discovered any stolen goods—the ones you alerted us to.” Blair looked over a shoulder at Trent. “But we’re getting close to ripping out the seats. Criminals will often hollow them out for storage.”
Blair opened a door and entered. Amanda stepped in behind her and laid her eyes on Palmer’s Caprice in person for the first time. The video had shown her a jalopy, but the video had been taken at night. Here, under the lights, the power-blue sedan was certainly a relic. Rust ate around the wheel wells and the grill.
Her gaze went to the driver’s-side back door. Legs were sticking out. Probably belonging to CSI Donnelly.
“Any of those prints lead us anywhere?” Amanda intentionally used us to present herself, Trent, and the investigators as being on the same team. A stab at diplomacy.
“No. It’s all about collection tonight. Processing in the morning. This is the vehicle number. It was scratched but legible enough.” Blair snatched a piece of paper from a table and handed it to Trent.
“Any hits in the system?”
Blair met her gaze. “That I did run quickly, and it was last registered ten years ago.”
Amanda turned to Trent. “Sounds like it could be Wheable. He could take cars destined for the compacter and turn them over for cash. No record that way and a quick buck.”
“And what’s a Wheable?” Blair raised her brows.
“It’s a who,” Amanda clarified. “Some ex-con we believe sold the car to Palmer or an associate of his for the purpose of carting stolen goods somewhere to fence them. His print could very well pop from some you’ve collected.”
She witnessed the CSI’s facial expression tighten at the enclosed request.
“I’ll keep you posted. As I said, not tonight or I’ll never get home to Derek… That’s my husband.”
Amanda’s heart cinched as she recalled a time when going home had been something she looked forward to, despite loving her job. But at least she’d had Kevin’s smiling face and loving arms to help wash away the day, and Lindsey to tuck in or to kiss on the forehead if she was already off in dreamland.
“I understand,” Amanda said. The two words scratched from her throat.
She’d probably pushed her luck with the investigator already but there was something else she needed to inquire about. “Did you, by chance, receive a silver chain bracelet connected to the Palmer case? It would have come over to you from Detective Jacob Briggs in Digital Forensics.”
“I did.”
She’d almost expected that Blair hadn’t seen it yet, but, then again, Jacob had got what he needed from the chip. “And?”
“There was epithelial, and before you ask, no hits yet.”
“Ooh!” Donnelly reversed out of the back seat and was holding something between two gloved fingers. She was already grinning at her find but beamed brighter when she laid eyes on Amanda and Trent.
Amanda closed the distance to Donnelly. “What is it?”
“A sobriety coin from Alcoholics Anonymous.” She flipped it in her palm. “Twenty years. Might lead you to Palmer’s killer.” Donnelly was still grinning like she’d eaten the last cookie from the jar and enjoyed every last crumb.
Trent stepped up close to Amanda, his elbow brushing against hers.
“I’m cautiously optimistic,” Amanda said. “It really could tie back to anyone. Anyone other than Palmer,” she added. “Don’t think it would be Freddy’s or Courtney’s. They don’t strike me as the type to refrain from drinking, and to reach twenty years sober, they would have entered the program as teens. Wheable as a young adult. You said he was in his forties?” She looked at Trent, who nodded.
She continued. “Maybe someone associated with them. See if you get any usable prints from it,” she said to Donnelly.
“Of course.”
“Where did you find it in the car?” Trent asked.
“Under the driver’s seat toward the back floor mat.”
