Strand of Deception

by Robin Caroll

  Maddie straightened her back. “We’ve almost concluded our analysis and conclusion report. We should have it to Peter within the hour. Once he and our science supervisor, Dr. Sebrowski, verify and attest the reports, we’ll run any unknown samples through our local system and see if we get a match.”

  The director nodded. “Very good. But if we don’t get a match?” He knew all this. Was he testing her?

  She took a deep breath. “Then Dr. Sebrowski will contact the Nashville office for the CODIS administrator to upload the samples into the national database, and we’ll pray we get a hit.”

  “Have you been in discussion with this Agent Hagar regarding the case, Ms. Baxter?”

  Maddie licked her lips. “Yes, sir. I believe it was your directive that we coordinate with Agent Hagar and the FBI.” “With the rain in my shoes . . .”

  One of the director’s eyebrows shot up. “I believe the word I used, Ms. Baxter, was liaise. I instructed the team to liaise with the FBI at the crime scene.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Searching for you . . .” His statement didn’t require a response, so she stood her ground. She wouldn’t flinch under his scathing stare. She’d endured much worse.

  “Oh. Yes. Isn’t your brother with the FBI, Ms. Baxter?”

  “In the cold Kentucky rain.” “Yes, sir. He’s an agent based in the Little Rock, Arkansas field office.”

  “I see.” His tone left little mystery as to what he saw.

  A heavy pause filled the lab.

  Peter cleared his throat. “Sir, it’s very unfortunate there has been a breach of security regarding the information, but I can assure you, our team members follow set policy and protocol regarding safeguarding of evidence and information regarding that evidence.”

  “It doesn’t appear so in this case, does it, Mr. Helm?” The director crossed his arms over his chest, his stance as wide as his shoulder width.

  “Sir, again, I assure you the information was not released by any of our team members.”

  The director glared at Maddie. “Not even to the FBI?”

  The lab grew as threatening as the raging storm outside.

  Eva stood and flashed her highest-wattage smile at the director. “Sir, our physical tests weren’t even concluded until after five this morning. Maddie and I have been in the lab alone since then, reviewing the data, analyzing, and generating our reports. This early, there’s nothing to tell the FBI, or anyone else for that matter.” She blinked her eyes, her lashes fluttering.

  “I heard on the news this morning that the senator commented on the cause of death not being the same in his daughter’s case as that other girl’s. Wouldn’t that information come from the medical examiner’s office, not us?” Peter pivoted slightly, addressing the director face-to-face.

  “As I said, Mr. Helm, I’m not accusing anyone.”

  Maddie crossed her arms and refused to sit down again. Sure . . . he wasn’t accusing anyone. Just implying someone in the room had leaked the information.

  “I’m merely ensuring proper procedure regarding the release of information is followed.”

  Right. Like any of the team believed that.

  Peter nodded. “And I assure you, sir, that we have been and will continue to follow such procedure to a T.”

  The two men stared at one another. Maddie’s admiration for Peter grew as the men each held their ground. She’d never seen Peter so assertive. It was impressive.

  Finally, the director nodded. “See that it stays that way.” He let his glare settle on Maddie. “I’ll look forward to hearing the results of your reports.”

  “They’ll be sent to Peter and Dr. Sebrowski for verification within an hour.”

  “Then I’ll let you get back to work.” He snapped at his assistant and held out his hand for his coat. “All of you back to work.” He stuffed himself into his coat and marched from the room without another word, his assistant trailing two steps to one of the director’s.

  No one said a word for a long moment.

  “Well, that was fun.” Leave it to Eva to break the uncomfortable silence. She clapped her hands. “Y’all get out of our lab—Maddie and I have to finish those reports and get them out within an hour, or I’m afraid the director will order us beheaded.” She laughed, but the tension lingered like the stench of formaldehyde.

  “Man, I didn’t say anything to anyone besides Agent Hagar, and it’s policy to ask the FBI to run fingerprints through IAFIS if we don’t get a hit through AFIS.” Ivan ran a hand over his jagged-cut black hair.

  “Don’t worry about it. We know the leak isn’t here. The director’s just got the mayor and governor chewing his case, so he’s got to chew someone else’s. That’s us.” Peter clapped Ivan’s shoulder. “Go home and get some rest. Forget about this morning.”

  Ivan nodded and ambled out of the lab. Kurt followed behind, leaving only Neal.

  “What is it, Neal?” Peter asked.

  “That doll and letter you asked me to run tests on?”

  Peter nodded.

  “Is it connected to this case?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Have you gotten the results yet?”

  Neal nodded. “Sir, the items are forensically clean. Not a fiber, not a print, not anything. I’ve checked and rechecked. Used ALS. It’s as if both haven’t had contact with any human at all. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Just put the report on my desk, please, and secure the items. Thank you.”

  Smiling shyly at Eva, Neal backed out of the lab.

  Peter turned back to Eva and Maddie. “Looks like that’s a dead end.”

  “We’ll bring you the DNA report as soon as it’s done, Peter. You might want to go ahead and get Dr. Sebrowski on her way in. It might take her longer because of the weather.” Eva moved, blocking his access to Maddie.

  He hesitated, then headed to the door. “I’ll wait in my office.”

  Eva paused until he’d shut the door behind him before she spun and faced Maddie. “What’s going on?”

  Maddie sat at her desk and stared at her screen. “Everyone’s furious with the senator because he’s talking to the press, but nobody can come down heavy on him, so everyone else is getting read the riot act.”

  “What about Nick?”

  Maddie hit the print sequence before leaning back and staring at Eva. “What about Nick? He’s livid too, but not much he can do about it.”

  “No, I mean, he was telling us basically the same information that was leaked.”

  Heat burned in Maddie’s gut. “Are you saying you think Nick leaked the information to the senator?” She shook her head. “No way. He wanted to throttle Senator Ford. I saw his face when he found out.”

  “Maybe, and just hear me out before you react, but maybe he told the senator the information in confidence and got mad when he learned the senator was going public with it.”

  Eva couldn’t be accusing Nick of this. Maddie pressed her lips together, struggling to keep her unfiltered comments trapped inside her. No way would Nick ever put his case in such a situation. He hated the press getting involved. They’d just discussed this last night.

  Maddie shook her head. “I hear what you’re saying, Eva, but no, it’s not possible. Nick guards the case facts too closely to tell the senator, knowing how the man likes to preen in front of a camera so much.”

  “If you’re sure . . . you know him better than I do.” Eva returned to her desk. “I’ve got two more lines to finish, then I’m done.”

  “I’m grabbing mine off the printer.” Maddie moved to take the stack of papers, but her mind reeled as she did.

  Had Nick’s empathy for a grieving father caused him to share too much with the senator?

  Nick smiled at the caller ID screen on his cell. “Hi, Maddie.�
� He’d called earlier today but had been routed to leave a message on voice mail. He’d been too disappointed—something he didn’t want to think about, couldn’t think about—to leave a message.

  “Sorry I missed you earlier.” He leaned back in his chair.

  “I was in a meeting with the director here.” Something about her voice seemed . . . distant . . . off.

  “Yeah. Helm called me and told me there wasn’t anything on some evidence I’d sent over. We just can’t seem to get a break in this case.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her tone sounded reserved.

  He sat up, plopping his feet onto the floor. “Is everything okay? You sound different.”

  “I’m fine. Peter and Dr. Sebrowski have verified the DNA results.”

  “And?” He lifted his pen.

  “Most of the samples are a match with Gina Ford.” All professional, as if she didn’t know him.

  As in most cases, the vast majority were matches to the victim. “Any that weren’t?” He held his breath. He needed this break.

  “There is one unknown sample confirmed.”

  Yes! “From the blood you found on her back?”

  “Yes. We’ve run it through our local database as well as NIBIN. Neither resulted in hits.” Her tone was almost monotone as she gave the results from the National Integrated Ballistics Information Network.

  Thunder rattled the windows in his office.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Maddie? Have you gotten any more threatening calls?”

  “I’m fine.” She let out a breath. “We’ve sent the sample to our Nashville office to run them through the state and national CODIS system.” Hopefully, Nashville would get results from the Combined DNA Index System sooner rather than later.

  Lightning lit up the cloud-darkened Tennessee sky with its jagged finger splitting the atmosphere.

  “Great. I’ll call the Knoxville FBI office and see if I can get an agent to Nashville to speed things up.”

  “It normally takes a few days up to a week for results.”

  “We don’t have that long. Not as long as the senator keeps making his press appearances.”

  Her breathing hitched over the connection. Almost as if she held it, then released. Not at all natural.

  “Maddie, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” If there was any chance something was wrong with the evidence on this case . . .

  “There’s no way you mentioned any specifics about the case to the senator, is there? I mean, inadvertently, of course.”

  He tightened his grip on his cell. Had she just accused him of . . . ? “Excuse me? Are you actually asking if I jeopardized my case by feeding the media confidential information via the senator?”

  “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t think so, I just—”

  “Why would you ask?” How could she even consider he’d do such a thing? Didn’t she know him better?

  The storm outside reached a fever pitch. A siren wailed in the distance from the street below.

  “The TBI director had a meeting with the team, reaming us because of the senator’s announcement. Since Senator Ford said forensic evidence had proven the murders weren’t committed by the same person, and we’re the ones who processed all the forensic evidence . . .”

  “He accused your team of leaking the information.” He’d heard the director was a real piece of work. A puppet for politicians. “The mayor and governor contacted him when they did me, asking us to work together on the case. I’m sure he’s getting the firestorm like the rest of us since the senator pulled his little press-conference stunt.”

  “So you can see why I had to ask. You understand since we just discussed this yesterday, right?”

  He swallowed.

  “Nick?” Her throaty voice abated his disappointment and anger.

  “I can see the logic, but I thought you knew me better. That you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

  “I’m sorry, Nick. So sorry.” Her voice cracked, then the connection broke.

  He shut the cell and tossed it on his desk. He’d hurt her feelings, but she should have known him better.

  It hurt that she’d had to ask.

  “You ready?” Timmons waited outside Nick’s office.

  He snatched his keys and cell, then joined Timmons. As they drove to Leo Ward’s address, Nick brought Timmons up-to-date with all the lab results.

  “Man, we needed something. I’d hoped for a break of some kind.”

  Nick turned the car into Ward’s driveway and parked. “Me too. Me too.”

  Lights blazed inside the home. The roar from a television greeted them as they knocked on the front door of the comfortable split-level house. Timmons had been thorough in his report. Leo Ward, fifty-eight, had been married to Miranda for twenty-two years. Together, they had one daughter, Virgo, nineteen, and one son, Aries, seventeen. Middle-classers right down to the Labrador family pet. Modest home. American-made cars in the garage. All blondes with blue eyes, they were the poster family for the all-American image.

  A woman in her fifties answered the door. “Yes?” She wore a pleasant smile, a dress that covered her knees, and her hair pulled back in a becoming bun.

  “Mrs. Ward?”

  “Yes?”

  “Honey, who is it?” A voice rose over the television.

  Nick flashed his badge. “I’m Agent Nick Hagar and this is Agent Timmons. We’d like to speak to Leo for a moment, please.”

  The lipstick smile slipped as she turned her head toward the home behind her. “Leo.”

  A man wearing slacks and a sweater appeared, looking nothing like Nick had expected. He had to stand six ten if he was a foot, was cut like he competed in the Mr. Universe contest, and boasted what could only be a spray tan. His look was nothing short of intimidating.

  “Can I help you?” His appearance was not near as shocking as his voice. High-pitched, it didn’t match the man’s physique. Reminded Nick of the boxer Mike Tyson—bulky man with a kid’s prepubescent voice.

  “Are you Leo Ward?”

  “I am.”

  Nick held up his badge and introduced himself and Timmons again. “We’d like to speak to you for a moment, please.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “We just need a moment of your time, sir.”

  “It’s okay, honey. I’ll just be a minute.” He kissed his wife’s temple, stepped outside, and pulled the door closed behind him. “Follow me,” he instructed Nick and Timmons.

  They followed him to the side of the house. “Now, what’s this all about?”

  “Sir, can you tell us where you were between eight and ten, Friday morning?” Timmons asked.

  Ward crossed his roped arms over his defined chest. “What’s this about?”

  “We’re investigating a murder, sir. Can you tell us where you were during that time on Friday?”

  “A murder investigation—wait a minute. This is about Senator Ford’s daughter, isn’t it?”

  Timmons looked at Nick, who shifted to face the hulk of a man. “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “She was murdered between eight and ten Friday morning, so you need me to alibi up, is that it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man hesitated, then threw back his head and laughed. “That’s rich. Did Ford turn you on to me as a suspect?”

  “Sir, can you please just answer the question?” Nick refused to be baited.

  Ward shook his head. “I’m a man who is interested in preserving life, gentlemen. I protest abortion and killing of the unborn for research. Unlike the senator, who proposes stem-cell research on human fetuses. Are you asking him about those murders? The murders of innocent children?”

  “Sir, we’d rather not to have to ask you to come to our office to answer our que
stions, but if you’d prefer—”

  “I was here, in my home office.”

  “Can anyone verify that?” Timmons asked.

  “My wife, who is also my secretary.”

  “Anyone not related to you?” Nick asked.

  “No.”

  “Were you on the phone with anyone during those times?” Timmons asked.

  “Not that I can think of right off the top of my head.”

  Nick shook his head. “Anyone who can establish you were here? A repairman? A neighbor? A deliveryman?”

  “Wait . . . Friday?” Ward slowly smiled. Wide. “That’s the day we had our new big-screen set up with our new satellites. Serviceman was here from about eight thirty until almost noon putting up the dish and wiring the two receivers and four televisions.”

  Well, they’d asked for an alibi. “We’ll need the name of your satellite provider, sir.”

  “Sure.” Ward nodded. “You tell Ford that I’d never stoop to harming a child, no matter how sorry the parent was.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I learned how important it is to entertain people and give them a reason to come and watch you play.”

  Elvis Presley

  An unknown source of blood on the victim and David Tiddle’s fingerprint on the dash of his girlfriend’s car. That’s all the physical evidence they had. Everything else was circumstantial. Weak. Certainly not enough to take to the DA. The district attorney wouldn’t touch this one yet.

  Nick propped his feet on the open bottom drawer of his desk and stared out the window. He mindlessly noticed the dried leaves floating on the puddles on the side of the road. Winds pushing the leaves like boats afloat on the ocean. At least it’d quit raining. Monday morning had dawned dry but gloomy.

  He’d called Knoxville and an agent should reach the CODIS administrator in Nashville by noon. If he got lucky, which he doubted, the agent would push to give the unknown blood sample top priority.

  “Boss?” Timmons stuck his head in the office.

  Nick waved him in. “Whatcha got?”

  “Got in contact with Ward’s satellite company this morning. We’ve requested the time logs for installations on Friday morning. We should get the records this afternoon.”