Under Pressure

by Zoë Normandie

  “Cooling sufficient.” The feminine voice of her colleague carried back to Kendra. “May want to consider a deeper impression.”

  “Were we able to collect an appropriate sample?” Kendra tilted her head, looking up from Delta’s glove, gazing around the small gray-and-white forensics lab.

  “Depends on what you need this to tell you.” Lily, the young laboratorian, glanced up and smiled at Kendra.

  Kendra stilled. What exactly was she after? It was the first of many questions she hoped to answer. Aside from what type of substances were on the glove and where had he been, she was struggling with how to articulate what she was ultimately after without sounding like a psychopath.

  Gazing over at her colleague, Kendra studied the young woman with a knotted black bun who was deep in thought, a line expanding between her barely-there eyebrows. Lily, a recent master’s graduate, was a breath of fresh air in the lab, where they processed certain types of substances.

  “You know, I really would like the department to invest in a more sensitive machine,” she explained to Kendra. “You’d think the high-and-mighty LAPD would actually put money into its forensic lab.”

  “We aren’t as fancy as your Harvard lab,” Kendra countered. “But we sure as hell are lucky to have you.”

  Lily let out a low chuckle, tilting her head in knowing. Then she narrowed her eyes on Kendra, eyeing the glove. She tucked a loose lock of pin-straight black hair behind her ear, focusing on the seizure.

  “So, have you found something?” Lily probed. “I know that look on your face.”

  Kendra shook her head. “All I’ve found is doubt that we have enough of a sample to tell us anything. The substance on the fabric is less than fresh.”

  “Well, which case is this related to?” Lily asked as she approached, her white lab coat swishing as she walked.

  Kendra looked back up at her student, not really wanting to say it. It was the first and only time that she had ever brought something into the lab for personal reasons. She was guilty enough about it, let alone explaining to Lily what her intentions were. And that guilt was powerful.

  “It’s not related specifically…to a case,” Kendra admitted, her poker face unpracticed. “But I think it’s blood.”

  “I see,” Lily said softly, understanding. She moved forward to scrutinize the glove and continued, “Hmm—the blood is all dried up, but we should be able to profile the DNA. We’ll need the PCR for this one, of course.”

  “It was discarded, to be clear,” Kendra iterated, in reference to the glove. She didn’t want Lily to assume she was breaking any rules. She wasn’t. A discarded possession was fair game in the eyes of the law.

  Lily nodded.

  “It’s just something I want to check out,” Kendra concluded.

  “Ah, so this is a case study?” Lily offered. “An example, just to test on? That’s good timing, since we have just received a brand-new PCR microchip and I’ve been itching to take it for a test drive on something not case-related. I’ve heard enough about this thing’s high throughput and small footprint.”

  As Kendra nodded in approval, Lily moved to prepare her station and get a scraping of the dried blood into the PCR. Lily’s slight frame—surprisingly thin given the amount of ramen noodles she consumed—rustled as she worked. Her enthusiasm for fluorescence-based quantitative polymerase chain reactions never failed, something Kendra truly admired. Their shared love of science had bridged the cop-civilian divide, bonding them over the years.

  After a few minutes, Lily carefully took the plate holding the glove over to her work area. Kendra watched as Lily began zoning in on Delta’s dried blood, humming along to the latest pop song that was quietly playing on the radio at the back of the lab.

  “I might be able to get a little bit more here,” Lily mumbled, her hands as deft as a surgeon’s. “This shouldn’t be an issue for the microchip. Thank God we convinced the inspector to fund us an updated version.”

  Though Lily’s words were reassuring, Kendra leaned back against the bench, questioning the ethics of what she was doing. Lily worked quickly, preparing a strip of eight PCR tubes for the thermal cycler.

  Despite the fact that Kendra had seized the glove in the morning, she’d taken the day to justify putting it on the lab plate, oscillating between the argument that she wasn’t doing anything wrong and that she was in violation of every professional creed she claimed to adhere to. On top of that, then there was the issue of…what did she hope to do with the information she found?

  “Weird,” Lily interrupted as she reviewed the extraction.

  “What?” Kendra grilled, lunging closer.

  Lily continued mumbling to herself, shaking her head. “This can’t be right. Oh, this can’t be human blood.”

  “Not human blood?” Kendra said, leaning over Lily’s shoulder to see for herself. “I didn’t think that was—”

  “Sorry… I should say—not normal human blood.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kendra jumped in, her brows snapping together in concern. “What do you mean?”

  Lily shook her head slowly, backtracking. “Perhaps I spoke too soon. This is a brand-new machine. It’s not calibrated correctly yet. How old did you say this evidence is?”

  “I just seized it this morning.”

  “I see,” Lily said. “I’d like to take a little more time to sequence this properly before I jump to conclusions. We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  Kendra gripped the lab counter before her for balance. A rush ran through her head, and she bit her lip. Not normal human blood? What’s wrong with it? Despite Lily’s correction, the original comment stuck. Kendra reminded herself that Lily was right. It was a new machine, fresh out of the box.

  But then again, something isn’t sitting right, she thought as she eyed the extraction.

  What the hell is on that glove?

  Lily turned around, apparently sensing Kendra’s unease. “Hey, are you okay? I just need a bit more time with this substance and I’ll get you a full analysis.”

  The young woman’s bright brown eyes opened empathetically as she assessed Kendra. They both knew something was wrong. Alarm bells were going off in Kendra’s head. I shouldn’t be doing this.

  “Forget it.” Kendra lunged forward and snapped up the glove, throwing it into a plastic evidence bag.

  She urgently stuffed Delta’s glove in her tote bag, nearly rushing to the lab’s door. She turned back to Lily, explaining, “Please, do me a favor, and forget all about this. Dump the extraction. I have to go. It’s getting late.”

  Lily shot a look at her in obvious confusion. She very clearly had questions she wasn’t articulating. Kendra tried to give her some sort of explanation, but an interruption came.

  A bell sounded at the lab door—and Kendra shot a guilty look back and forth from Lily to the door. Typically, they didn’t receive visitors, and Kendra wasn’t about to wait around and let Lily get in trouble. Hoisting her tote on her shoulder, Kendra rushed out of the lab door, finding Hunter standing in the hallway. Dread coiled up her throat as she stopped in front of him, letting the door lock behind her. Unwilling to showcase her anxiety, Kendra wasted no time, pushing onward down the long, quiet hallway.

  “Staff.” She cordially addressed her boss by his rank as she slipped past.

  Hunter narrowed his eyes, smoothing back his brownish hair. Kendra wondered if he knew what she’d been up to, and for the umpteenth time that day, self-reproach flooded through her mind. Leveraging police resources for personal ends was deeply unethical, a fireable offense.

  “Calling it a day?” Hunter grilled, following her as she distanced herself.

  “Yes,” Kendra replied, trying to keep it casual.

  “We need to debrief,” he remarked, “about this morning.”

  “I can’t stay late. I have to get home,” she replied, a soft ‘no’.

  The allusion to her personal life was met with a twitch in his eye. He took in a noticeable
breath and moved the conversation on.

  “The body… What are we seeing?” Hunter probed, bringing her back to what she was supposed to be investigating—the scene of the crime, not Delta.

  “We’ll have a report to you by tomorrow.” Kendra nodded, tightening her hand around her tote as she reached the end of the hallway where the exit was to the parking structure. When she reached the far wing of the building, she grabbed the exit’s doorhandle. She glanced back up to Hunter, chewing her lip.

  “Why do I feel like you are running from me?” He gave her a look, as if trying to read her mind.

  “I’m— I-I just—” she stammered, but rolled up her tongue immediately.

  Shaking her head at her own inability to keep it together, Kendra pushed out into the parking structure to find her car. Unfortunately, Hunter followed close behind. He was only the second man to trail in her wake that day, driving something up her throat. She was losing it—ever since she’d seen Delta. He’d rattled her.

  “You… just?” Hunter didn’t relent, calling after her as she marched. “Go ahead, finish your thought.”

  In a row of cars, Kendra stopped in her tracks to face him, realizing that he’d stopped as well—too close to her body for comfort. She caught an unwelcome whiff of him. Unlike Delta, when Hunter’s scent filled her nose, it was downright disagreeable. Not that he had a bad odor, but she couldn’t deny that she disliked the way he smelled and had felt that way for the entire year.

  “Listen, Kendra. You’re acting different. I know there’s something wrong.” Her boss cocked his head, staring at her, as if knowing. “Talk to me. You can trust me.”

  Trust. That awkward thing. She bit her lip and felt overwhelmed by guilt as she stared into Hunter’s face. I should be trusting him. Isn’t he on my side? She repeated the question again and again in her head, trying to convince herself to come back to the light.

  Finally, her true nature overcame her, and she confessed. “Look… I found something on the ground at the crime scene and I brought it back to the lab to test it.”

  Hunter nodded, appreciative. “Perfect. What is it?”

  She gnashed her teeth harder against her lip as she chastised herself for the admission. Shifting on her feet, she shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. It doesn’t really belong to the case. And the reason why I’m telling you this—”

  Hunter cut her off. “If it was at the crime scene, it belongs to the case. Simple.”

  “No, it doesn’t, and the reason why I’m telling you this is—” Kendra again tried to articulate, but found herself stumbling over her words, trying to stop the runaway train. She strained her neck back, finally just reiterating, “It doesn’t belong to the case.”

  Hunter wouldn’t let her continue. “You aren’t making sense. What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I saw this glove fall off someone, so all I’m doing is running DNA elimination tests—”

  “Fall off?” Hunter’s head tilted, his eyes narrowing. “Who?”

  Kendra let out a slow breath, her conscience getting the best of her. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “Trust me,” Hunter restated. “I’m not the bad guy.”

  Kendra tried to breathe in as much air as she could, releasing it slowly to calm herself. She was such a prudish do-gooder, unable to handle this type of pressure. She locked eyes with her boss, wishing for compassion that wouldn’t come—not when it had to do with his nemesis. Kendra knew mentioning Delta was going to be a terrible mistake. Last year, the two men had birthed a very strong hatred for each other.

  She looked deeper into Hunter’s eyes as he waited, blinking back at her expectantly. He shrugged, as if telling her to get on with it. She knew she just needed to come clean, especially if she wanted to save her ass.

  He probed her again. “Whose glove is it?”

  “Delta—” She closed her eyes, feeling the immediate tension. “It was Delta’s.”

  “Don’t you fucking say it.”

  Kendra nodded uncomfortably, the air thickening around her. “He was there, at the scene.”

  “How the hell—?” Hunter snapped into a sudden rage, his heated voice lashing through the parking structure.

  She stumbled back, her hands raised, trying to calm him. “I don’t know. I have no idea. But there he was, warning me—”

  “Warning you? What the fuck does that mean?” Hunter’s voice grew more incredulous, as if she’d personally betrayed him. The anger boomed off him even worse than she’d seen before.

  She instinctively backed up again, hitting a car, wishing to God she’d brought her pistol that day.

  “I don’t know.”

  Hunter stopped a few feet in front of her, trapping her against the car. “Tell me what the fuck he said to you.”

  “To be careful,” she said, biting her lip, holding her tote to her chest. “To not let my guard down.”

  “Was that before or after he dropped his glove?”

  Kendra opened her mouth to respond, as she considered his question.

  Hunter’s furious tone grew suspicious. “I want to know everything that asshole said to you. He’s up to something—and you’ve played right into his hands, contaminating our lab.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Leave his glove there?” Kendra stepped back farther into the parking structure, tightening her hand on her bag. “There was blood on it. I had to eliminate his DNA.”

  Blood. Hunter’s eyes drilled into her. She watched his jaw twitch, his neck pulse. Clearly, the mention of Delta’s blood was a bridge too far.

  “Where is it? Give it to me,” Hunter demanded, lunging forward to search. He grabbed at her tote, trying to get into it. “Give it to me!”

  “No,” she cried, pulling to the side. She had to get to her own car as fast as fucking possible and get the hell away. The situation was moving from bad to worse.

  This is all a big mistake.

  “Hand it over!”

  “I’m sorry— I should have never brought it here. I’ll give it back,” she apologized to her boss, quickly looking over her shoulder to where her blue sedan was parked.

  Hunter grabbed her hands. “No!”

  It was in that split second that Kendra saw what she should have seen before—a desperation in his eyes.

  “Stay the fuck away from him,” he snarled, his grasp tightening on her. “Do not go to him. I swear to God.”

  “Hunter, please.” She tried to tug her hands away.

  He seethed, his panicked eyes flitting back and forth over her face. “He’s trying to manipulate you. He wants you to go back to him, Kendra. Don’t you fucking do it.”

  She blinked back, trying to withhold tears. “He wants nothing from me. He never has.”

  As the words filled the space between them, a perplexed expression crossed Hunter’s face, stilling his attack. Using the moment’s pause, Kendra slipped out from under him. She sped off to her car, her heart pounding through her chest. She felt short of breath, spiraling into a deep panic.

  Without hesitation, she peeled out of the lot, as far away as she could get from Hunter. His unbelievable, uncontrollable desperation had been so shocking. She knew he hated Delta, but this? What was she missing? Her trembling hands white-knuckle-gripping the steering wheel, she pulled out of the parking structure into the open air of the mounting evening. A thousand thoughts should have been at the forefront of her mind, but one important question took over.

  What am I going to do with this glove?

  Like a bad omen, she sensed it burning a hole in her bag—and into the shell she’d formed.

  Chapter Four

  On her way home, Kendra’s nerves were still running high, in shock from what had just happened. She had no words for Hunter’s behavior and didn’t know what the hell to do. Her mind spun at a thousand miles per hour, and she was beating herself up for her continued inaction. She’d always been certain that she’d be the woman who wouldn’t put up with bullshit.
She was strong. She’d stand up for herself. But there she was—shaking in her seat, doing nothing about it.

  I just have to get home.

  Chewing at her quivering mouth, she blitzed around a steep corner in the heart of the Malibu hills on autopilot. LA traffic out of the basin had been predictably terrible. As she climbed from the oceanside up the side of the rocky hill, the sunset finally fell below the horizon. Dusk was upon her, making the drive a little less relaxed and a little more perilous. Drunken celebrities and millionaires sometimes sped around the unguarded hills, and crashes down the encampment occurred all-too-often.

  It had taken hours of sitting in LA traffic and listening to her mindfulness app to finally get her to breathe properly. Was she crazy or had Hunter attacked her? She had to report Hunter for his belligerence and abuse. She paused, thinking. Then again, she didn’t want anyone looking into what she was doing with Delta’s glove. If she complained about Hunter, they’d find her out.

  She didn’t know what to think, nor did she want to. Her judgment was growing impaired, more and more so. It was too damn hard to be on her game when her whole day had been thrown off since that morning. A reprieve would be nice to process, as opposed to drinking from a firehose.

  It seemed like every man professing to ‘protect her’ was prepared to hurt her. Her head was pounding. Seeing Delta again was the worst thing that could have happened. It had drummed up all the emotions she’d gone through the past year, trying to get over that damn fling. She’d never forget that guilty look on his face when she’d seen him at the hospital when his friend Carrick had been shot then caught him at Carrick’s wedding, weeks after they’d hooked up. She’d finally accepted he was never going to call. She was never going to see him again.