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“Sorry. This is Michael Wilder from the Washington State Patrol Forensics Division. I’m Jessica Eller’s boss.”
“Yeah, I know who you are. Are you trying to reach Jessica?”
“I am, yeah. It’s important. When Deputy Lorman took her phone, she gave me your number.”
“She went out to dinner.”
Wilder swore under his breath. “I really need to talk to her. It’s…well, it’s her safety at stake here.”
Finn had been hunched over the counter, but Wilder’swords had him snapping to attention. “I know where she is. I can get to her. What’s going on?”
“She probably told you how she contaminated the DNA evidence on that red fiber, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. She told me all about it. Felt incredibly stupid, too.”
“Well, it wasn’t her fault. Shedidn’tcontaminate the sample.”
Finn’s heart pounded in his chest. “What do you mean? That wasn’t her DNA from the sample?”
“The forensics techs jumped the gun. It was just a trace, a sample, and it partially matched right away to Tiffany Hunt’s sample on file. The techs made an assumption before running additional tests on the sample. Once they ran further tests, they discovered it couldn’t be Jessica’s DNA.”
Finn tried to swallow, his throat sandpaper. “Why couldn’t it be a match?”
“Oh, it’s still a partial match, but the DNA can’t belong to Jessica because it belongs to a male. The trace DNA from the red fiber belongs to a male relative of Jessica’s—like a brother.”
Chapter Eighteen
Her brother smiled, and her heart skipped a beat at how similar it was to Tiffany’s smile. He said, “It’s funny. I feel the same way—like I’ve seen you before.”
“It’s more than that.” She shook her head. “It’s your voice…and your smile is so much like Tiffany’s.”
“I’m glad you see the resemblance.” He put his hand over his heart. “You can tell her you found me, but I’m not ready to meet everyone yet.”
Jessica swallowed and smiled too brightly. “I can understand that.
“So, tell me all about yourself.” She planted her elbows on top of the table, ignoring the menus, and sank her chin in her palm. “What does your email name, armybrat, mean? Was your adoptive father in the army? Did you move around a lot?”
“Whoa! Slow down.” Chuckling, he held up his hands and crossed one finger over the other. “My father was in the army, retired now, so I followed in his footsteps like a dutiful son. Spent some years in the army myself. Honorable discharge, got my teaching credential, thanks to the GI Bill, and found a job in Seattle. The Pacific Northwest always called to me.”
“That’s good. I’m glad life worked out well for you. Our sister—” Jessica chewed on the side of her thumb, not ready to spill the beans about Tiffany yet “—she had some issues as an adult. Chaotic childhood.”
He dipped his head. “That’s sad, but you turned out okay.”
Jutting out her chin, she said, “Tiffany turned out okay, too.”
“Of course, I’m sure. Looking forward to meeting her.” He waved to the waitress. “Are you ready to order?”
“Oops, you go ahead. I haven’t even looked.” She scooped up one of the menus and ran her finger down the fish specials while David ordered.
When the waitress turned her attention toward Jessica, she ordered a platter with the fish of the day and a glass of pinot grigio.
The waitress asked David, “Something to drink, sir?”
“Water is fine.” He gave Jessica a tight smile when the waitress left. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Oh, that’s…good.” Now she felt guilty about her glass of wine. Did he not drink because he had a problem with it? Alcoholism ran in families, and both Mom and Tiffany had suffered from the disease. As far as she could remember, David’s biological father was a hard-drinking navy seaman. Maybe that’s why David was dry.
When her wine came, she took tiny sips to make it last so she wouldn’t need to order another. She still had to drive home, anyway.