by Sharon Dunn
Her phone rang. She stared at it. “It’s Harlan.” She pressed her talk button and listened. “Okay, have a good time with your wife.” Darcy ended the call and stared at her phone before putting it away.
“Sounds like everyone else is calling it a night. Are you sure you want to get back to the lab?” he asked.
She looked at him after taking a sip of her drink. “Jackson, thanks. This was a nice break, but I do want to get back to work. The colder the Emery case gets, the less chance we have of solving it.”
When they finished their pizza, Jackson commanded Smokey to get back in his crate. After latching the door to the crate, Jackson started the SUV. Heading back toward the lab, he noted that the traffic was lighter. It was dark already when he pulled into the empty lot. “Where’s your car?”
“I use public transit except when in a professional capacity—less expensive.”
“Are you all right with working in the lab alone?”
“I do it all the time.” She pushed the SUV door open. “Thanks again, Jackson, for the rescue from the reporters.” Darcy seemed lost in thought.
“No problem.”
He watched her walk to the outside entrance to the lab and swipe her badge across the sensor by the door so it clicked open. Darcy disappeared inside. It seemed sad to him that such a cute and smart woman was working on a Friday night. But then again, what was he doing on a Friday night? “Streaming a movie with my best friend, right Smokey?”
The dog let out a yip.
He was about to pull back onto the street when he saw shadows and movement. Someone disappeared around the side of the building.
Great. A reporter had waited around and was now looking for a way into the lab to bother Darcy some more.
* * *
Darcy hurried down the hall. Her footsteps echoed on the hard floor. After donning her lab coat, she walked over to the microscope that contained a slide with one of the fibers from the Emery case. The fiber was natural, cotton, probably from a piece of clothing. There had been DNA on the fiber, but it was a minute specimen. To make the sample usable, she’d had to grow it using polymerase chain reaction to make the DNA replicate itself.
She let out a breath. She’d actually explained that process to a man at the church dinner she’d gotten dressed up for and watched his eyes glaze over.
She peered at the lens, feeling a heaviness. This was her life, working alone on a Friday night. Dinner with Jackson Davison had been a brief reprieve even if it had been very informal. Though he seemed a bit guarded, she felt drawn to Jackson’s quiet nature. He wasn’t a man who talked just to hear the sound of his voice. He chose his words carefully. Maybe this would be the start of a friendship for both of them.
She looked through the lens of the microscope just as an odd pounding noise caused her to lift her head. Was Jackson at the door? The sound was coming from somewhere else. Above her, maybe? The lab was on the ground floor of a three-story building. As far as she knew, the offices above her were a nine-to-five operation. Was someone working late?
She shook her head. Her first thought had been that Jackson had come back to tell her something. Funny how thoughts of him lingered in her mind. He’d have to knock on the main door to get in, though. It locked from the inside.
Darcy walked over to a shelf of textbooks and pulled one down. She suspected the DNA on the fiber was skin flakes. The challenge was that it was such a small sample.
She leaned on the counter and flipped through the book, hoping for clarity on how to proceed. Anything that fell outside of standard lab procedure might be called into question in court. Her mind was always on the little girl who had been in the home at the time of the murders. She was in a secure, loving home now. And if they could catch the man who had killed her mom and dad, she would grow up with a sense of closure and that justice did prevail.
Darcy closed the textbook. The lights in the lab flickered off. Darcy stepped toward the switch, toggling it. But the room remained dark. A breaker must have blown. Holding her hands out in front of her so she wouldn’t bump into anything, she moved to the drawer where a flashlight was kept.
A hand went over her mouth. Another wrapped around her waist, holding her arms in place.
Terror raged through her. She twisted to get away, thrashing with all the strength she had. She freed herself and whirled around. This time her assailant attacked her from the front, reaching for her throat. In the process, she was backed into a counter. Her assailant’s hold on her remained strong. As they struggled, pieces of evidence and equipment fell to the floor. She tried to pull away from the counters before more work could be destroyed.
She moved with such force that though she broke free from the grip of her assailant, she fell on the floor. She crawled on all fours toward where she thought the door might be. The assailant pushed more things off the counter. Items crashed against the floor. Glass shattered.
Gasping for air, Darcy reached out for a wall and pulled herself to her feet.
A body slammed against hers and she was facedown on the floor again. She flipped over onto her back. Hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed. She clawed at the hands trying to choke her.
“Darcy.” A voice sounded in the distance and then she heard footsteps up the hall. The same direction the assailant had come from. The voice was Jackson’s.
The hands let go of her. Her assailant crashed toward the door and then retreating footfalls echoed up the hallway. Choking and coughing, she wheezed in air. Another set of footsteps hurried past her in the hallway. That must be Jackson going after her attacker.
She sat up, still in shock from the assault. She reached out for a wall to steady herself, her heart pounding wildly. Her legs felt like cooked noodles, but she pulled herself to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder. Because it was so dark, she was unable to fully assess the damage to the lab.
She made her way to the door.
When she peered down the hallway where the two sets of footsteps had passed, a flashlight shone in her face, coming toward her.
“Jackson?” Her voice was hoarse.
He ran to her. “I tried to catch him. He got away through the main door of the lab on this floor.”
“Yes, you can open it from the inside, but it locks behind you.”
His hand reached out for her in the dark. “You okay?”
She was still shaking. “What happened? How did that guy get in?” More than the attack, she was upset about the work that had been destroyed by her struggle with the assailant.
“He got down to this floor through the ductwork on the floor above you. I followed him. He accesed the second floor through an unlatched window by the fire escape. I was just getting ready to pull out of the lot when I saw someone sneaking around outside. I thought it was some reporter looking for a scoop.”
“No.” Tears warmed the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Jackson. He broke things in the lab and then tried to strangle me.” Her voice faltered.
He took her in his arms. “Hey, it’s okay.”
She rested her face against his chest. “I don’t mean to be such a basket case.”
“You’ve had quite a shake-up.” He held her until she pulled way.
Darcy wiped at her eyes. “I’m going to go look at the breaker box to see if I can get the electricity back on. I have to know how much damage was done. Can I borrow your flashlight?”
“I’ll go with you.”
She was grateful for his offer. Though it appeared that the attacker had escaped, she was still not calmed down. She moved down the hallway to the breaker box. Jackson shone the light for her while she pushed the breakers back on. Light filled the hallway and spilled out of the main lab.
“Darcy, I have to call this in.”
“I know. The attacker might have touched stuff, maybe there are fingerprints.” She thought for a moment, trying to re
member. “I think he was wearing gloves.”
“You can’t do the dusting. You’re the crime victim.”
She let go a nervous laugh. “Yes, of course, that would represent a conflict of interest. Me investigating my own crime.”
“Look, the detectives will be here shortly. You can make a statement and then I’ll take you home. No way am I letting you ride the subway.”
“Jackson, thank you so much. I just need to get my jacket.”
She stepped back into the brightly lit lab. The sight of the smashed glass on the floor made her feel like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Oh, no.” She moved to pick up an evidence bag with shell casings.
Jackson grabbed her at the elbow. “Don’t touch anything.”
“Of course. What was I thinking?” She stared at the mess. The attack had thrown her so far off-kilter, she’d almost contaminated the crime scene. A total rookie move. As she stared at the disarray, she still couldn’t absorb what had happened. “The stuff on the counter that got pushed off was mostly from some cold cases we’re working on. Nothing current. But all the same, it’s messed-up evidence.”
“It does seem kind of random and angry.”
She shook her head. “Who would do such a thing? A reporter just would have tried to corner me and ask me questions.”
“Yeah, maybe we can rule them out,” Jackson said.
“The list is a mile long of people who don’t like the results the lab produces for trials,” said Darcy. “Do you think this attack was about revenge or anger?”
“It’s clear that someone doesn’t want you or the other techs to be able to do your work. But if they wanted to destroy evidence for a specific case, this wouldn’t be the way to do it.”
“Or they don’t want us working on a current case. If you destroy the lab, it slows down our ability to move cases toward trial.” She touched her neck where the assailant had tried to choke her. “It would take time for someone to find evidence connected to a specific case. Maybe they thought they were going to have time to look around and didn’t count on me being here.”
Jackson shook his head. “Hard to say.”
A chill ran up her spine. She leaned a little closer to Jackson, relishing the sense of safety she felt when she was close to him but unable to shake the fear that invaded her thoughts.
THREE
Once detectives arrived and took Darcy’s statement, Jackson ushered her up the hallway and out the door. She seemed to have regained her composure and now was focused her concern on the lab being processed properly. Maybe thinking about gathering evidence had distracted her from the trauma of the attack. Jackson knew from experience that there could be a delayed effect where Darcy’s emotional response was concerned. He wanted to stay with her until he was sure she was going to be okay.
A forensics van from Manhattan pulled up outside. Two techs, a man and a woman, got out.
Darcy watched them enter the building. “Guess that is the outside team who will process the evidence. I know one of them. I would really like to talk to him.”
Jackson cleared his throat.
“I know. I know. It’s not my case. It can’t be. I just hope I can go back to work tomorrow,” Darcy said.
“Where do you live?”
“Williamsburg.”
“Me, too. Come on, Smokey and I will take you home.” Jackson held the SUV door for her and then got in behind the wheel. She gave him the address.
He drove through the city streets, past neighborhoods that were quiet and others where the night had clearly just begun. He circled the block several times before he found a parking space not too far from her apartment building.
“Do you live alone?”
“My sister lives with me, but she is away on an overnight field trip. She’s a choir teacher at a private high school.”
“How about I walk you to your door?”
Her wrinkled forehead suggested she wasn’t crazy about the idea.
“I know you can take care of yourself, Darcy. This is for my piece of mind and, besides, Smokey needs to stretch his legs. There was no time to get him out of the crate when I was chasing the intruder. He would have gotten some exercise then.”
“Well, I can’t deny Smokey some exercise.”
They got out of the SUV and headed up the block toward her place.
Smokey emitted a low-level growl.
“What is that about?”
“I’m not sure,” Jackson said. “Something’s bothering him.”
She placed the key in building’s entrance lock but didn’t turn it.
Darcy took her hand away from the door, leaving the key in the lock. The hesitation suggested she was concerned about entering her building. Smokey’s agitation had given them both pause.
“Why don’t you let Smokey and I go inside and clear your place?”
She nodded.
He was glad she wasn’t brushing off safety concerns. “You stand back. Let me open the door.”
Darcy stepped to one side while Jackson turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Her apartment was on the ground floor. As he opened the door to her place with her key, she said, “The light switch is just on the inside of the wall.”
He felt along the wall, flipped on the light and then commanded Smokey to enter and search. “Stay in the hallway for now,” he told Darcy.
Smokey circled the room, sniffing the couch and the overstuffed chair. The dog padded into the kitchenette but never alerted.
Darcy’s apartment was done up with furniture that looked like it had come from thrift and antique stores, albeit repainted in bright colors. She had a lot of antique-looking, floral-printed curtains and pillows, and he noted a tablecloth and doilies. The whole room looked like a place his grandmother would like, only more vibrant.
Smokey came and sat at Jackson’s feet. “Looks like it’s all clear.”
“I suppose that’s good news.” Darcy untied her scarf, tossed it over the back of a chair, kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the couch. “At least I can catch my breath.”
Maybe, Jackson thought, Darcy had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and the attack was about revenge against someone else or destroying evidence. But then he thought about the car that had tried to run her over near Grand Army Plaza. He was concerned about her safety. He really didn’t feel comfortable leaving her. Darcy struck him as being a very independent woman. She probably would rebuff his offer to protect her.
He sat on the opposite end of the couch. Maybe he could keep the conversation going. “So why do you think that person was in the lab tonight?”
She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “It has to be the attack was about something the lab did, not me personally. Somebody didn’t like results that sent someone to prison.” She put her hand on her hip. “We’ve already talked about this, Jackson.”
Maybe she’d figured out he was trying to delay leaving her. “True. I’m just trying to figure it out.”
“The destruction of the evidence seemed kind of random,” she said. “I think it is someone mad because our work sent a loved one to jail. That would be my guess.”
A scratching noise made both him and Smokey jump. Jackson stood.
“That’s just Mr. Tubbs, my cat. He wants out. He must have been hiding when you cleared the room.” She disappeared down the hall.
“Sorry about that. I must have shut the door after I cleared the room. He was well hidden for Smokey not to alert to his prescence.” Jackson hadn’t realized how on edge he was until the noise of a cat put him on high alert. Smokey picked up on his nervousness and paced. As partners, they were tuned in to each other just as he would be if with a human officer.
Darcy emerged from the hallway, a fat gray cat plodding behind her. “Don’t worry, Mr. Tubbs likes dogs.”
Jackson moved
toward the Lab and commanded him to sit. “Smokey has been trained to deal with all kinds of animals.” Homing in on the cat, the dog thumped his tail on the hardwood floor and emitted a whine.
Mr. Tubbs, acting as though he had not even seen Smokey, jumped up on the couch. The feline did not so much as rest on the arm of the couch as he draped himself. His round body made his legs appear stubby.
“So do you want a cup of tea or something?” Darcy asked.
“That would be nice,” Jackson said. She must have sensed his reluctance to go but wasn’t going to push him out the door.
“Go ahead and sit down.” Darcy busied herself in the kitchenette, pulling things out of cupboards and putting the kettle on.
Jackson again settled on the couch, away from Mr. Tubbs. Still sitting, Smokey watched the cat intently. The cat flicked his tail and narrowed his eyes.
Darcy took her seat on the couch, saying, “It will take a minute for the kettle to boil.” She turned to face him. Her light brown eyes were full of life. “I appreciate you being worried about me, but I’m okay here. I’ll lock my door and windows. I always do.”
Jackson rose to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. He wandered across the room where one wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. In addition to the science, chemistry and crime detection books, Darcy also had books on art and some classic literature. “I’ve read a lot of these books. Grew up in the country with no television.”
“Jackson, you’re avoiding what I just said.”
He ran his fingers though his hair. “Look, Darcy, I know you can take care of yourself, but I think maybe Smokey and I should at least do a quick search around the building.”
“Then will you feel comfortable going home?”
The answer to that question was no, but he nodded all the same.
“Do the search. The tea will be ready by then.”
“Lock the door behind me. I’ll knock three times when I come back.” He wasn’t sure why he felt protective of her. It certainly wasn’t because she acted like some kind of damsel in distress. Maybe he was starting to have big brother feelings toward her. He missed his siblings in Texas. Since his breakup with Amelia, he hadn’t gotten out much to meet new people. His idea of a social outing was basketball with the other K-9 officers. Maybe it was time to change that.
