5

  “Are you alright, Summers?” Kirk asked as Kate failed to stifle yet another colossal yawn.

  Kate shifted on the couch in the staff lounge. “I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep.” Or any sleep.

  He gave her a sour look. “I told you to take the goddamn weekend. You really didn’t need to be here today. The others could have finished their work without you hovering.”

  Kate only had the energy to shrug. In truth, she hadn’t come in today because she was stubborn or because she thought her subordinates needed watching. She had come in because she hadn’t been able to stand another moment in that apartment, with the empty box and paper-strewn table. In reality, she had only snapped out of her stupor somewhere around one a.m. She immediately began digging through the Internet, tracking the journalists who wrote the articles, the coroner who was quoted, and the sheriff. She couldn't believe that the evidence had led to such a far-fetched conclusion. She had to clear her parent’s names. Her mother, who had always been laughing and ready to lend a hand to anyone, simply could not be the monster they had decided she was. It had been about dawn when she realized that the best way to start this off, given the redacted nature of the police files, was to speak to her aunt and uncle, but that thought had clenched her stomach into knots and thrown her back into a cycle of pain, betrayal, and anger. The tape recorder had been proof of her uncle's single, brief attempt to clear his brother’s wife. It was a recording of an interview with a private investigator named Lander. He had refused the case.

  “Are you even listening to me, Summers?”

  Kate jerked in her seat, and Kirk scowled. “Sorry, boss. Lost in thought.”

  “I was saying that we got a call from the Duncan family lawyer this morning. It looks like they might kick up a stink if we aren’t careful.”

  Kate stifled another yawn. “Why are you telling me this? Tell Grayson. I’m always careful. He’s the one who wants as little work as possible.”

  Kirk smothered a smile. “I’m telling all of you. Though you are right. Grayson’s already been running his mouth about a murder-suicide. If the media gets hold of this…”

  The rest of Kirk’s tirade was lost to Kate as her mind sprung out of its sleep-deprived stupor and froze his sentence in perfect clarity. A suspected murder-suicide, all cloaked and concealed in a house fire.

  A chill raced up her spine at the similarities, and then another factor hit home, and she felt her lips pull into a grin. It had been only four days since the Duncan's had been found. Already they had enough to conclusively say that this was not an accident. She didn’t know exactly where the other evidence would take them, but she was certain that it would take her and her team a month at the most to be able to offer conclusive results.

  Her parents’ case had taken years to be shut. That had to be proof that the evidence didn’t add up. Proof that someone with a work ethic worse than Grayson’s had kept it at the simplest explanation and finally managed to get it shut.

  “What the hell are you grinning at, Summers? You look…murderous.”

  Kate refocused on Kirk and managed a tired smile. “Sorry, boss. Family stuff. I was a little worked up, but I think I have just found the key to fixing it.”

  Kirk cocked an eyebrow. “Well, I pity the poor soul you’re looking to rake over the coals.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t worry. You know me. Not a violent bone in my body.”

  “I do know you. I know exactly how lethal your words can be.”

  She threw him a mock scowl but suddenly felt miles lighter. Her uncle, who had been told that his brother had been murdered, hadn’t believed it. The police themselves had clearly lacked anything definitive to be able to close the case quickly. They’d likely kept their first guess because it had been leaked to the world, and they didn’t want to lose face.

  “Look, Summers,” Kirk said, after eyeing her expression for a while. “I don’t know what’s gone on, and I don’t want to, but I need this case closed before you go anywhere, okay?”

  Kate frowned in puzzlement. “Go anywhere?”

  “Your family lives down in North Carolina, right?”

  “Oh, right, but I don’t think this will take long. I was heading down there next weekend anyway. I won’t need longer than that.”

  Kirk sighed. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t take the time. Heaven knows you have a ton of leave owed you.”

  Kate grinned. “I know. Now I’ll get back to work.”

  Back in the lab, she went straight to where Matt was working, running simulations to test theories of what might have struck Mrs. Duncan’s head and with how much force.

  “Any luck yet?”

  Matt held up a finger, eyes intent on his screen, then he looked up. “I think so, but boy, does this make no sense.”

  Kate felt a thrill of triumph. “I’m guessing that means that the kitchen counter is out of the running, and we have a likely third person at the scene.”

  “Jeez. Are you a wizard or something? I’m beginning to think that our tabloid leak is actually on to something.”

  Kate tossed him a venomous look, and he raised his hands. She shook her head. “I just pay attention and tend to remember most of what I learn.”

  Matt made a noise in the back of his throat then gestured to the screen. “This is the best match so far.”

  Kate shifted closer and looked at the screen. “The hunting knife?”

  Matt nodded. “We managed to peg down the exact brand and make from the markings on the blade. It looks as if Mrs. Duncan was hit from above and behind with the pommel.”

  Kate tilted her head to the side as he clicked a button, and the simulation played out, showing the perfect match for the pommel’s shape and the damage to the skull.

  “Above and behind?”

  “Yes. The cracking on the skull shows that the force changed trajectory slightly from the first contact to last. It started as if the assailant were taller but ended with them shorter. The best explanation is that they struck by jumping down on the victim.”

  Kate nodded, her mind rushing through the floor plans of the house. Several areas could have facilitated that kind of attack, and one was the bathroom in which the dog had been found. Had Mrs. Duncan heard the dog being killed and gone to investigate?

  “Is there anything that will help show that this wasn’t her husband’s doing?”

  Matt chuckled slightly. “Always against Grayson. He says murder-suicide; you say double murder.”

  Kate threw him a long-suffering look. “If I am always against Grayson, it is simply because he doesn’t know how to do his job.”

  Matt chuckled then selected a new simulation, this one flaring to life on the little holo-projector in the center of the room. Sate of the art tech like this was one of the many reasons Kate had chosen a big city to work in.

  “Wait. Adjust the drop height by half a meter.”

  Matt didn’t question the order, adjusting the parameters and hitting play. A man of roughly Mr. Duncan’s height and weight leaped down onto Mrs. Duncan. The force, even when placed at his weakest, was still instantly fatal, thanks to the drop.

  Kate grinned. “Give me that report stat. I need to run it up to Kirk before Grayson embarrasses himself entirely.”

  Matt sighed and nodded. “If only Grayson knew you had his best interests at heart. He’ll hate you even more now.”

  “So I’m just supposed to let him label an innocent man as a murderer?” Kate snapped, then bit her tongue. This whole mirror image case was getting her on edge. The Duncan's were not her parents. “Sorry, Matt. I didn’t get any sleep yesterday. Running on fumes.”

  Matt nodded and then handed her a prelim report from the printer, the sort that laid out the basic fact trail without all the information like parameters, variables, and exact workings.

  “Come in.”

  “I got it,” Kate said, prancing into the office before spotting Grayson in the chair in front of the desk.

  Kirk shut his eyes for a brief moment as Grayson looked back at her with a scowl. He looked every bit the picture of a man preparing to weather a terrible storm. “What have you found, Dr. Summers?”

  “Proof that Mr. Duncan did not knock his wife out. The blow, force, and trajectory all suggest someone far smaller and weaker than he was.”

  “You are certain?” Kirk asked over Grayson’s snort of contempt.

  “Hundred percent. Matt’s been running simulations all day. This one fits perfectly. The blow to her head was not fatal and delivered by someone who jumped her.”

  “Good work, Dr. Summers. Grayson. Get on finding that suspect.”

  As the door swung shut behind a grumbling Grayson, Kate felt her determination flare. She had cleared a stranger from having their name blackened. She’d do the same for her mother.

  6

  “What do you mean you have no forwarding address?” Kate said, tapping her pen against her desk in a rapid pattern of irritation.

  She had spent all of Sunday combing through the Internet for more information of any of the people linked or potentially linked to her parents’ case. Now armed with that information and a Monday that was depressingly slow on her end while they waited for the detectives to find something, she had spent the morning on the phone, trying to track people down.

  “I see. Thank you anyway.”

  She disconnected the call and stared at her blank screen. This had been the twelfth dead end. How had everyone who had written those articles just vanished? Left to go abroad, retired to parts unknown, died of illness. The reasons were all different, but it left her stuck on square one.

  She glanced up at the ceiling, letting out a huge yawn. She didn’t feel as rested as she ought to. She had gone to bed early and could remember nothing from the time her head hit the pillow and her alarm going off. Usually, such dreamless sleep brought with it new energy, but she still felt beat, as if she had spent yet another night trawling through her past. She stifled a groan as she was forced to admit defeat. She would have to call her aunt and uncle and confront them.

  “Is there something up there we can’t see?”

  Kate sat forwards slowly, having heard, and in the case of Nadine, smelled, the two women entering her space. Nadine always wore killer amounts of perfume.

  “You two finished going through the small finds?”

  “We have. Half a day late, but I am certain that the quality of our work will make up for that,” Nadine said, grinning, knowing Kate preferred a slower turnover of perfect results than a faster turnover and results that were constantly pulled into question.

  Kate held her hand out for the report and then dismissed them, hoping the over-powering scent of perfume would dissipate soon; it was starting to give her a headache.

  She began to flick through the finds, looking at the photos closely, then skimming the reports to see if there was anything worth bothering Grayson for. The man had been very loudly complaining about how the forensics team lived only to give him more work on what should have been an open and shut case. She didn’t much like the idea of going to provide him with an evidence report in his current mood and with her growing headache.

  Nothing here seemed out of place or the likely drop by someone who didn’t belong. It had always been a long shot. After all, given how far the fire had spread, most of the evidence would have been destroyed.

  She reached the last section for small finds that had been found directly beneath the areas where the bodies had been found.

  She tilted her head at the tiny glass beads. Two identical beads that seemed somewhat familiar. They had cracked from the heat, but the pattern of red flowers within the clear outer ball was still visible.

  Her eyes dropped down to the report, hoping to gain some enlightenment as to why the beads were sticking in her mind. They had both been located in the ash below the lower left rib cage of each victim. The cracks had managed to store and protect some evidence. Both beads had been swallowed by the victims prior to their death.

  The memory finally surfaced. One of Kate's most prominent cases here had been another fire about five years ago, with just one victim. However, another body was later found half a mile away, photographs showing the two to have been together minutes before the estimated time of death.

  A glass bead had been found in that victim’s stomach, the fire not having fully consumed him by the time it was put out.

  Kate flicked her mouse so that her screen lit up and typed in a few quick search criteria in closed cases.

  It took a moment, but the one she wanted was there. She jumped right into the evidence folder and looked for ‘glass bead.’ Kate felt a grim smile of triumph pull up her lips. The bead was the same. A perfect match. She clicked back into the main folder and went to the detective’s side of the investigation, cringing slightly as she noted Grayson’s name. The case had been closed with the fire and murder pinned on the second corpse, who had died from severe blood loss. According to their determination, the two men had fought; one had been badly injured, but managed to kill the other, then set a fire to cover his tracks before fleeing and passing out and eventually dying from blood loss.

  “Looks like you got it wrong again, Grayson,” she muttered, waiting for the appropriate sheets to print. Kirk was not going to like this, but she had to tell him. If these beads were some kind of calling card, they needed to start paying more attention.

  “Summers,” Kirk said, looking up as she entered his office, but his smile faltered immediately. “You’re here to cause me trouble, aren’t you?”

  Kate huffed a short laugh. “Sorry, boss, but maybe you should consider a new detective.”

  Kirk swore then met her gaze. “What’s Grayson done now?”

  “Not now, five years ago,” Kate said. holding out the pages with the finds as he frowned in puzzlement. “Those glass beads were found in both the victims of this case. I thought they looked familiar, and there, an identical bead in a case from five years ago. Also swallowed, also a house fire.”

  Kirk’s frown deepened. “You’re telling me you want to look into a possible serial killer?”

  Kate took a deep breath and nodded. “I don’t like coincidences.”

  Kirk muttered something unintelligible then handed the pages back. “We’ll keep this between us for now. You have nothing urgent at the moment unless you think the remains can tell us more. Grayson and his team are trying to track the perp, but there’s almost nothing to go on.”

  Kate bit her tongue at his almost accusatory tone of voice. It didn’t look good to have a ton of open, unsolved cases. She knew that, but she didn’t get into the justice system to fob off crimes on random people just so that the paperwork looked better.

  “Look into this case again. It was shut, so I imagine the remains were handed over for burial, but you might have some luck with the reports and see if these glass beads pop up anywhere else.

  Kate nodded. “Will do.”

  ****

  Her apartment door shut behind her, and she let out a long sigh. Apart from her brief moment of triumph, the day had been an endless stream of frustration. None of the leads for her personal case had yielded results, and nothing had been found to either narrow down the pool of suspects or find more matches with the glass beads from the Duncan case.

  She hung up her bag and keys then went to flop on the couch, her finger poised over the call button. It was no good delaying this, but she didn’t want to end up having a full-blown argument either.

  She straightened and hit call.

  “Hey, Katie! Is everything alright?” Mae said, answering the phone.

  “Is that Katie?” Uncle Ben’s voice said before she could answer. “We normally have to call her. Hey kid,” he added, coming into shot. “You aren’t calling to bail on us, right?”

  Kate shook her head. “No. I just…I mean I…” Kate swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that this was the first time she’d be voicing her horrible discovery out loud.

  “What is it, darling?” Mae asked, worry deepening the lines around her eyes.

  Kate steeled herself, narrowing her thoughts and emotions down to one need. To get answers. “I found the box.”

  “Are my books ruined?” Ben asked, a different kind of worry on his face.

  Kate took a moment to realize his confusion before answering. “Not the box with your books. The one with all the stuff about my parents.”

  Mae and Ben froze, eyes wide, then slowly exchanged looks of muted horror and a tinge of annoyance as if they both thought the other had gotten rid of the box. Had they really planned to keep it from her forever?

  “I want to know if it is true. I want to know why you lied,” Kate said into the deafening silence, proud of herself for maintaining a steady voice that held neither anger nor pain.

  Mae and Ben exchanged another look, this one filled with worry. Perhaps they had been expecting more emotions, but Kate knew she would drown in them if she let them out.

  “Well? Are you two going to give me answers or just hold a silent conversation together all night?”

  7

  Ben and Mae exchanged one more look and then heaved a deep breath in unison.

  “I…We never believed it, but the police had other ideas,” Ben tried, then stopped, shaking his head. “We wanted to protect you. Protect your memories.”

  Kate managed a small nod. “I get that while I was a kid, but later…”

  “Later, you were doing everything in your power to forget it, forget Asheville, your friends, your life. Wouldn’t this have made you trapped?” Ben said, the tiniest hint of anger in his voice.

  “You were doing so well, with your studies and your dreams to be a forensic analyst,” Mae interjected, throwing her husband a reproachful look. “We feared this news would derail that.”

  Kate frowned; something in her aunt’s tone of voice made her sure she had meant more than she was saying. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Ben looked away, his jaw tightening, and Mae sighed. “Let’s have this conversation in person, okay? We hired a private investigator.”

 

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