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“It’s fine,” Detective Stroud says impatiently and I get a sense of annoyance in his voice.
I set down the pillow I was fluffing and turn toward the two men. We stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room. I am painfully aware of the train wreck I must appear to be. I am wearing a pair of old Victoria Secret sweatpants with the word “PINK” written across the butt, a long-sleeved T-shirt covered in dirt from the garden, and my hair is in a messy bun. No makeup.
“I have a few follow-up questions about our visit last week,” Officer Marino says. “About the necklace specifically: I want to confirm that the necklace wasinsidethe envelope with the fourth letter, correct?”
“That’s correct. It was tucked in the folded note that read, ‘you are next.’”
“And you brought it directly to the station, the next morning, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t take it anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Did anyone else touch it?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No, definitely not. It was only in my possession for, literally, six hours before I brought it in.”
Marino glances at Stroud.
“Why? What’s going on?” I ask.
“Immediately following your visit last week, I sent the necklace and the letters to the state forensics department to test the blood drops on the pendant and scan for other traces of DNA.”
I begin picking at a torn cuticle.
“We got the report this morning. The letters are clean of DNA, so nothing useful there. But the report does confirm the blood on the pendant belongs to your mother, so, we can confidently assume that the necklace was removed from her neck after she was killed, and was taken from the scene. Likely with the other jewelry that was stolen in the house.”
The dead skin rips from my fingernail with a sharp sting.
Marino continues, “Your recent prints are on the side of the stone—from handling it, of course. But there is also someone else’s.”
My brows arch. “Whose?”
“It’s only a half-print, and very old, but they were able to confirm that the print does not belong to Jesse Taylor—the missing boy who we think delivered the envelopes.”
I blink, my brain taking a second to process this information. “So, if Jesse didn’t touch the necklace that was in the envelope, then this means someone paid him to deliver them? Because the envelopes must have been already sealed when he got them.”
“Yes, that’s what we’re thinking.”
“Okay, so who do the prints belong to?”
Marino clears his throat. “We haven’t been able to link an identity to it yet. You see, half-prints can be very tricky to authenticate, but they were able to determine that the prints on the pendant have been there for a very long time and also that—”
Detective Stroud cuts in. “The point, Miss Stone, isn’t who the print belongs to, it is who the printdoes notbelong to.”
I slide my hand over my mouth, knowing what he is going to say before the words come out of his mouth.
“Rhett Cohen’s prints are nowhere on that necklace, ma’am. The half-print does not match his.”
“He’s innocent,” I whisper breathlessly, through my fingertips. “I knew it.”
“We are far from that conclusion, Miss Stone. That is an option, of course, but another option is that he could have had an accomplice that we were unaware of. Regardless, this definitely opens the door to take another look at the case.”
I drop my hand from my mouth and nod feverishly. “Yes, good. Whatever you need from me, yes, whatever you need to do.”
“Thank you. We’ll be back in touch soon. Meanwhile, we are doubling our efforts to find Jesse Taylor, working under the assumption he delivered the letters, and therefore was in contact with whoever had your mother’s necklace.”
