Dead End

by Susan Sleeman

  For a moment they knelt and just looked at each other until she jerked her gaze away. “You see anything suspicious, you give me a shout.”

  He nodded and started running his gloved fingers over the trimmed blades of grass in the perfectly green lawn. Caulfield had obviously taken care of his yard as the grass was thick without a weed in sight.

  “He recently mowed the grass,” Sierra said, sounding matter-of-fact when he knew deep down she was still shaken. She was like most everyone here at the crime scene. Putting her emotions on hold for now. Blocking them. When she was alone, she would let them all out.

  “He obviously used a grass catcher,” she continued. “And it would’ve sucked up other things, too. If his garden debris bin hasn’t been emptied, I’ll have to look through that.”

  Reed glanced at her. “That could be nasty.”

  “Not as bad as a dumpster or surely not as bad as draining that hot tub.”

  He was beginning to see she tried to look for positives in her life, and he liked that about her and liked being with someone with a positive attitude. What was he thinking? He just plain liked being with her, even if it was at a double murder investigation.

  “So what made you go into forensics?” he asked as they turned to work their way back toward the fence.

  She was silent for a long moment. “You’re going to laugh.”

  He glanced over at her. “A good laugh might be perfect right now.”

  She sat back and looked at him for the longest time, probably trying to decide if she could trust him with her story.

  “Back in the day,” she finally started. “I wanted a career in law enforcement. My family pushed me to choose a safer career. Then, when I developed a crush on the guy who played Nick Stokes on CSI, my career path was cemented in my mind.”

  Reed smiled, so grateful that she shared something personal that he wouldn’t laugh.

  “Of course, that meant I watched every show and made sure I took as many chemistry and biology classes as I could take in high school.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t suppose you chose to get into law enforcement due to a crush.”

  He frowned. “Actually, it’s kind of related. One of my high school girlfriends was murdered.”

  “Oh, Reed. How awful.”

  “Yeah, it was tough.” The memories washed over him. “They never found her killer. I thought if I went into law enforcement I could solve it.”

  “And did you?”

  He shook his head. “I worked on the case for years, but it went cold a few years ago, and I had nowhere else to look. Every year on the anniversary I pull it back out, though. Go through every detail and hope to find a lead.”

  “I’d be glad to look at the files if you want. Maybe I can see something that was missed.”

  “When we wrap up this investigation, I might have you do that,” he said, but immediately wondered if they would even see each other after the investigation. He couldn’t imagine not wanting to see where this attraction between them led, but Sierra was a different story all together. He feared she might be perfectly happy to have him disappear from her life forever.

  16

  “Thanks for meeting me so early, Kels.” Sierra took a picture of the sketch Kelsey made of the Army Ranger and sat back in the chair by her desk. “This looks just like the guy I talked to.”

  Kelsey smiled, but she’d been at the crime scene all night and looked tired. She’d showered and changed, but there was no way to shower off the lingering effects of her job.

  “You should go get some sleep,” Sierra suggested, though she hadn’t gotten any sleep and felt like a hypocrite suggesting it.

  “Maybe later. I want to drop the sketch off with Blake so he can run it through facial recognition. If that doesn’t pan out, we can get it running on the news right away. And then I need to begin examining the bones and ID the hot tub victim.”

  Sierra understood Kelsey’s desire to work. Sierra would do the same thing. Not only to help with any forensics she could process, but also to keep from thinking about the horrific crime scene. “Anything you’re ready to share on that yet?”

  Kelsey shook her head. “You know me. I don’t like to speculate.”

  “I totally get it.” Sierra squeezed Kelsey’s hand. “I owe you for this one.”

  “If you hadn’t called me, I would still likely have been called in, so you don’t owe me a thing.” Kelsey got up with sketch pad in hand. “I’ll let you know what I find.”

  Sierra watched Kelsey depart and offered a prayer for her friend. For Caulfield’s family. For the family of the person recovered from the hot tub. For Eddie, her team, and Reed. For them to be able to find Eddie alive.

  Feeling a little better, she sat back to prioritize her morning. She now had two investigations with plenty of evidence to process, and she figured they were connected via Eddie, so both were top priority. Sierra had promised Reed she wouldn’t do any work without him, but she’d gone to Emory’s lab and left the blood samples found by Caulfield’s body and taken from near the hot tub, and hair located in the tub along with blond hairs Sierra recovered in Caulfield’s bed. Then for the last hour, she’d listed out the leads on her whiteboard before putting them in order by the lead she felt most likely to turn up evidence and connect the two scenes. She felt okay with doing all of that without Reed, as she didn’t actually process any evidence.

  She studied the board. First items up this morning would be Eddie’s and Caulfield’s shoes. If she could place them together at a scene other than Eddie’s office, she might be able to figure out why someone would kill Caulfield and abduct Eddie. Because now she was certain that Eddie had been abducted.

  Eddie. Her biological father. She’d been so focused on him that she hadn’t been thinking about her other dad. The man who’d raised her. The one she loved and had called father for so many years. He was in the hospital, and she hadn’t talked to him since she learned of Eddie. Visions of him lying in his bed played in her brain. Pale and weak. Maybe near death’s door. And she’d left him upset and hurt.

  Tears quickly wetted her eyes. She tried to stop them, but couldn’t. She’d been mad—furious even—at her parents, but now their secret just hurt. Deep inside. Where only emotions from someone you loved unconditionally could cause pain.

  She grabbed a tissue from her desk and blotted her face, but the tears kept coming. She needed to cry, that was obvious, but she didn’t want to greet Reed with red eyes and a blotchy face. She looked up at the ceiling and forced her mind to happy times. To fun outings with her parents and brothers when she was a little girl.

  That made things worse.

  Okay fine. Think of times when your brothers made you mad.

  So many times to choose from. She conjured up the last conversation with her oldest brother, Aiden. He nagged her about her lack of a life outside work like he often did. Telling her there was more to life than a career. Just like Reed had suggested, except Reed didn’t nag her about it. Just stated his point of view on the subject. Clearly and concisely. And that had made her consider his point far more than Aiden’s nagging had ever accomplished.

  Her desk phone rang, and she jumped. Caller ID said it was the reception desk. She looked at the clock. Eight. The time she and Reed had agreed on after they left Caulfield’s house, and he must have arrived.

  She picked up the handset. “Good morning, Lily.”

  “Agent Reed Rice is here to see you.”

  “Tell him I’ll be down in few minutes.” Sierra hung up and checked her makeup in her compact mirror. She cleaned away mascara streaks from the tears and left her lab. By the time she got down to the lobby, Reed was not only checked in but pacing in front of the door. He was dressed in a black-with-gray-pinstripes suit, and he’d paired it with a white shirt and lavender-and-black tie. Like his other suits, it fit him perfectly, tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

  She felt underdressed in her jeans, T-shirt, and lab coat, but she was a
tomboy at heart, and she didn’t often dress up. Suddenly, she wished she had a better wardrobe. But why? She didn’t want anything personal with Reed, right?

  He caught sight of her, and she shifted her focus to his face, surprised to see how refreshed he looked. It seemed like he’d slept well when she hadn’t even climbed into bed. She’d spent the time since they parted reviewing every single line of his case file on Eddie.

  He searched her face. The concern she saw at the crime scene was still present. “You look tired.”

  “Gee, just what a girl wants to hear.” She laughed.

  “Sorry.” He ran his gaze from the top of her head to her feet and back up. “I mean you look great, but tired.” He grinned, a wide flash of white teeth that warmed her heart.

  She felt a blush creeping up her neck. She spun, making sure the door closed behind him, and quickly boarded the elevator to hide her reaction to him. He stepped in with her. The space seemed to evaporate with his larger-than-life presence and was filled with his unique scent of leather and cinnamon mix. She was not only drawn to him because of his looks and his personality, but his scent was enticing and intriguing as well.

  “What’s on your agenda this morning?” he asked, thankfully breaking the tension.

  “Shoes. Both Eddie’s and the ones I found in the foyer at Caulfield’s place. We know accounting connects them, but I was hoping we might find particles that would connect them in additional ways.”

  They reached her floor, and together they strode to her lab. She unlocked the door with the fingerprint scanner and Reed opened it for her. As he followed her, his now-familiar scent replaced the antiseptic smell of the lab.

  He held up his briefcase. “I’ve got Caulfield’s phone records to review while you work on that.”

  “Then make yourself at home at one of the tables while I grab the evidence.” She crossed the room to the lockers. She felt his gaze follow her and didn’t hear him moving. She couldn’t work under the tension filling the room and needed to find a way to keep things light between them.

  “You said evidence was handled differently depending on whether you process all of it or just some,” he said. “Which do you do more of here? Specific items or the entire investigation?”

  “And let the questions begin.” She looked back at him and grinned, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “If you don’t want to answer…”

  “I was just teasing you.”

  “Oh, right.” He smiled. “Guess it’s too early in the morning to pick up on that.”

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Oh, man, would I.”

  She gestured at the pot that she recently brewed in their mini-refreshment area.

  He put down his case and marched toward it like a man on a mission. As he poured, he looked up and quirked a smile. “So, my question.”

  She chuckled. “We used to do specific items more, but it’s changing since Blake joined us. Detectives like having one point of contact for their questions, and word is getting out that we can handle full investigations. We’re actually meeting this week to talk about expanding.”

  He turned holding her favorite mug that said It’s a forensics thing, you wouldn’t understand. “Do you have the space to do that?”

  She nodded. “Half of this floor and all of five and six are available.”

  He sipped his coffee, his face pensive. “You all have really built something special here.”

  “Go ahead and tell that to the Special Agent in Charge of your office and encourage him to use our services more often.” She grinned.

  He frowned.

  She took it to mean that he didn’t want a connection between his office and her lab to continue and that hurt. “I was kidding, you know?”

  “I know.” He went to the table where he left his briefcase and stood with his back to her, ending the conversation.

  She had to admit to feeling hurt. He was really running hot and cold this morning when he’d been so consistent since she’d met him. She had no idea what changed. She thought they’d gotten to know each other the past few days and developed an understanding and respect for each other. Not to mention a personal interest, but something had put him off since she’d said goodbye in the wee hours of the morning. Or maybe she was the only one who thought this way. Thankfully, she had way too much to do today to dwell on it.

  She put on gloves, grabbed Eddie’s shoes, and took them to the table where she’d already placed fresh paper. She mounted one shoe, sole side up, in a clamp that she swung over the table. She adjusted a lighted magnifying glass and studied the treads.

  Her cell chimed, and she spotted a text from Kelsey. She read it and bit back her disappointment. “Kelsey says the Ranger sketch didn’t return a facial recognition match, and Blake wants your permission to release it to the media along with a press release.”

  Reed took a seat and looked at her. “Yeah, he should go ahead with that. I’ll text him a phone number for our office hotline to use.” He pulled out his phone.

  Sierra typed her response to Kelsey then went back to working on the shoe. She was even more determined to find a lead since the sketch didn’t match. In the loosely held particles, she spotted typical sandy soil found near the beach along with little pebbles, but didn’t see anything else unusual. She took a dental pick and released some of the deeply embedded soil onto the paper. Along with it came clay soil like the kind found in the Willamette Valley along with a red powdery residue that she didn’t immediately recognize.

  “Hmm,” she said to herself.

  Reed was off his stool and across the room in a flash. “Something interesting?”

  “Maybe. Eddie’s shoe has clay soil stuck in the treads, which means he could’ve recently been in the Portland area. And there’s a red residue that I can’t place.” She scraped a sample onto a slide and went to her microscope across the room to examine it. “From the particle size, I’d say we’re looking at a mixture of clay and sand.”

  “Which would come from where?” His voice came from right behind her.

  She craned her neck to look at him. “Bricks are the first thing that comes to mind.”

  “Brick, huh? Not a common building material in the Pacific Northwest. Not with all of our trees.” He tapped his chin. “It could mean we’re looking for an older building. But for the particles to be lodged in his shoes, the brick would need to be crumbling, right?”

  “Yes, or in the process of being made. I don’t know of any brick factories in the area, but Nick can check that out.”

  “Eddie could’ve been on a construction site where brick was being laid. I’m assuming cutting bricks would leave some dust behind.”

  She nodded. “I’ll check Caulfield’s shoes, too.”

  She discarded her gloves in the biohazard bin and grabbed Caulfield’s shoes from a locker then took them to a different table. She put on gloves and mounted the shoe in the vise to examine the sole under her magnifying glass. When she spotted a hint of red, excitement raced through her body, and she dislodged the soil. Similar particles rained down on the paper. “We have brick dust on Caulfield’s shoe, too.”

  “So we find the place with the crumbling or new brick, and we might find Barnes.”

  “Yes.” As she looked up, she caught sight of a red splotch on the back of the shoe. She bent closer, shocked that she hadn’t noticed this at Caulfield’s house. She looked up at Reed, her heart clutching. “There’s not only brick dust here, we have blood, too.”

  17

  Blood. The implications of Sierra’s find hit her hard, and she could barely breathe.

  Reed bent over the table and stared at Caulfield’s shoe. “You’re sure it’s blood?”

  “It looks like it, but I need to confirm.” She used her hip to push him out of the way and slid onto the nearest stool. She set down the shoe and reached under the table for her blood test kit. A quick swab of the stain, and she added the Bloodstain Green drops. The swab turned gree
n.

  “It’s blood,” he said, obviously remembering the procedure from yesterday.

  “Yes, but whose blood?” She grabbed a piece of sterile paper and quickly folded a section of the paper over one-third. She smoothed the crease, folded the other end over that, and repeated the process from the other two sides to create a sort of envelope. She had made these so many times on the job that she could do it with her eyes closed. She placed the middle of the paper under the shoe and grabbed a scalpel.

  Reed silently watched her every move. She scraped the knife over the shoe and reddish-brown flakes dropped onto the paper below. She folded up the paper and tucked the outside two edges into each other to make a small packet.

  “Couldn’t you just use an envelope for the blood?” Reed asked.

  “Yes.” She removed her gloves. “But this druggist fold works best to store evidence because powders and fine particles can leak from the corners of an envelope.”

  “Interesting.” He shook his head. “I’ve said that a lot with you, haven’t I?”

  “Yeah, but then what I do is interesting so you should say it.” She grinned up at him, and this close she could see the tiniest of scars just below his right eyebrow. She gently touched it.

  He sucked in a sharp breath.

  “How did you get the scar?” she asked, now wondering why on earth she’d touched him in such a personal way and dropped her hand.

  “I met the corner of a raised fireplace hearth when I was three.”

  “Stitches?”

  “No,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Just butterfly bandages.”

  “Must have hurt.”

  “I don’t remember it at all, but my mom said I didn’t cry.”

  “A tough guy even then, huh?” She smiled.

  He looked at her for a long moment, his dark gaze digging deep. “If I was so tough, why would your touch scare me to death?”