Page 2 of Crime Lab Cold Case (Pacific Northwest Forensics #2)

Natalie squinted into the light, which was blinding her, her mouth dry, her fight-or-flight instinct on high alert. The large figure loomed in front of her, his arm extended as if to grab her.

He couldn’t be the man from her past, but his presence in the woods at night, alone, signaled danger. She shoved one hand into a pocket, curling her fingers around the cold metal of her weapon.

Then she spun away like a startled fox, and crashed through the bushes back toward the campsite, where she’d left her car. The man yelled behind her, which made her propel her legs to pump harder through the underbrush, snapping twigs and crushing dry leaves beneath the soles of her sneakers.

If he tried to follow her, she’d shoot first and ask questions later.

To hell with her career. She’d vowed never to be a victim again, and she’d kept that promise to herself…

and to Katie. When she reached the edge of the empty campsite, she doubled over, wedging her hands on her knees.

Her heavy breathing and pulse pounding in her ears blocked the noises from the forest.

When she caught her breath, she straightened up and tilted her head, her ears attuned to any sounds of footsteps or running. A few birds twittered, scolding her for upsetting their nighttime peace, and some animals rustled in the underbrush, but no human sounds reached her.

On shaky legs, she made it to her rental car in the campsite’s parking area. She peeked into the back seat and checked her tires before dropping behind the wheel and drilling the ignition button with her knuckle to start the engine.

The stranger who’d accosted her back on the trail would hear her car if he was still in the area. He’d know she’d gotten away, foiled whatever plans he had for her. He should’ve been worried about the plans she’d had for him .

She removed her Glock from her jacket pocket and placed it on the console. She swung out of the parking lot, her tires spewing gravel, squealing and fishtailing as they hit the asphalt.

Her breathing didn’t return to normal until she saw the lights of Marysville ahead.

A few sets of headlights crawled along the mostly empty streets where a couple of fast-food joints glowed with a warm welcome for late-night noshers.

Her stomach growled, but the last thing she needed was greasy food before turning in. The food on the plane was bad enough.

She pulled into the guest parking lot of the hotel, pocketed her weapon and slid from her rental car. She stomped her feet before entering the lobby, dislodging some dirt and debris from her shoes.

Crossing the lobby to the elevator, she waved at the front-desk clerk.

His eyes widened, as he lifted his hand. “Are you okay, Ms… .?”

“Brunetti.” She slowed her pace. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just…” His face flushed, as he seemed incapable of completing a sentence. He patted the top of his head.

She reached up to her hair, which had come loose from her ponytail, and felt leaves and a small twig among the strands. As she combed her fingers through her rat’s nest, she smiled at the clerk. “Just doing a little exploring in the woods. Might’ve gotten carried away.”

The young man hunched forward on the counter, looked both ways and cupped a hand at the side of his mouth. “You might want to be careful in the woods at night. A woman was murdered there several months ago, and the cops haven’t caught the killer.”

A shiver ran up her back, despite this being old news to her. “I’ll be careful. Thanks for the warning.”

She made a beeline for the elevator without turning around and stabbed the button several times.

When she got to her room, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror.

She rubbed a smudge of dirt from her cheek and picked a few more twigs from her hair.

Then she shrugged out of her dirty jacket, fell on top of the bed and toed off her sneakers, still caked with mud.

Had she almost just shot a man in the woods for shining a flashlight in her face? She’d been somewhere else when he’d come upon her, but an excuse like that wouldn’t fly with the local police. It also wouldn’t help her find out what happened to Katie fourteen years ago.

And she had every intention of putting that mystery to bed—even if it cost her her job…and her sanity.

* * *

The following morning , Michael made it to the lab with a lot less confidence—and a lot less sleep—than he’d intended. He’d been prepared to attack this meeting with Special Agent Brunetti with all systems humming, and he’d barely made it out of the house today with matching socks.

The encounter with the woman in the woods last night had rattled him.

The rumors of his guilt were still circulating, and now, someone had caught him returning to the scene of the crime.

What had he been thinking going back there?

Would she report him to the police? He hadn’t done anything wrong, except for thinking she was his wife, Raine, for one crazy minute.

He must’ve done something, though. Lunged at her. Reached for her. Blinded her with the flashlight. He’d scared her, and she’d taken off like a scared rabbit. All she’d left behind was the scent of roses.

He’d wanted to explain, soothe her fears, but going after her would’ve made everything worse. He’d taken off soon after he heard her car start up. At least she hadn’t called the police on him—not that he knew of, anyway.

Nicole appeared in his office doorway. “Are you ready for the meeting?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you and the other department heads prepared?” He stuffed the file he’d been blindly staring at into his bag and pushed back from his chair.

“I think so. I mean, most of us weren’t even at the lab when the…discrepancies occurred. Not sure what the FBI expects from us now.” Nicole stepped away from the door as he approached.

“They expect cooperation and for us to open our files to them. I think we can all do that. It’s not like any of our jobs are on the line over this corruption.” He turned and locked his office door behind him. With the FBI in the house, now was the time to follow security procedures to the letter.

Nicole tucked an errant curl behind her ear as she took the lead to the conference room. “Everyone keeps saying corruption. Maybe it was just mismanagement. Maybe they weren’t that good at their jobs.”

“Could be.” Michael shrugged. “It’s not up to us to figure that out. We’ll leave it up to Special Agent Brunetti to make the conclusions after his investigation.”

The department heads had already gathered in the conference room, and Michael scanned the faces for the FBI agent.

He grabbed one of the chairs at the head of the table, his back to the door, and connected his laptop to the projector.

As he brought up the presentation on his computer, the mumbling in the room ceased, and he glanced over his shoulder at an attractive woman poised at the door, her brown hair pulled back from her face, accentuating a pair of high cheekbones and intelligent, brownish-gold eyes.

His gaze took in her olive-green suit and smart laptop case slung over one shoulder, and the truth smacked him in the face. Special Agent Nat Brunetti was a female—all woman, as a matter of fact.

He schooled the surprise from his face. He couldn’t be accused of sexism. If he hadn’t seen the first name of the special agent, he wouldn’t have made any assumptions about her gender.

Standing up, he extended his hand. “Special Agent Brunetti, I’m Dr. Michael Wilder. Welcome to our lab. We look forward to assisting you.”

Her full lips twitched, but she took his hand in a firm grip. “Good to meet you, Dr. Wilder. Thanks for the welcome, and you can call me Natalie or Nat.”

“Please, call me Michael.” He flung his arm to the side.

“We’ll go around the room, and everyone can introduce themselves to you and say a few words about their department.

Only Dr. Volosin from the DNA lab is missing, as he’s at a conference out of town.

His assistant manager, Dr. Rachelle Butler, is representing the lab today. ”

Most of his staff had friendly words and smiles for Agent Brunetti, but the welcome wagon hit a rut when it came to Lou Gray, who oversaw vehicle evidence.

Lou scowled at Natalie from beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows.

“Are you Fibbies trying to disrupt our work here? Point the finger for mistakes made years ago?”

Natalie placed her fingertips on the table and leaned forward. “I assure you, Lou, that’s not my job. If mistakes were made, and it looks as if they were, we want to make sure they don’t happen again—here or at any other forensics lab. This isn’t a search-and-destroy mission.”

Lou nodded, but he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He’d been working at this lab at the time of the anomalies, so he was probably feeling more threatened than most.

The rest of the introductions went more quickly and less prickly, and the meeting went even faster than Michael had anticipated.

Natalie—he refused to call her Nat now—didn’t ask a lot of questions, but the ones she did come up with were pertinent and precise.

She also managed to put everyone at ease and establish an air of camaraderie in the room, notwithstanding Lou’s hesitancy.

He could do this. They all could. They were on the same team and wanted the same thing. The FBI had sent one of their best and brightest.

Natalie deferred to Michael to wrap up the meeting, and as his team filed out, they all said a few words to Natalie, asked a few questions. His grumpy staff had sprouted halos in the past hour, all on their best behavior. Even Lou managed a smile on his way out. This audit would be a breeze.

As Natalie chatted with the last of the department heads, Michael closed out his presentation and disconnected his laptop from the projector.

When he and Natalie were alone, he tapped on the conference table.

“You can set up shop in this room during the audit. Lots of room to spread out with an available projector for presentations, if needed. Or I can get an office, if you prefer.”

She took a turn around the room, brushing past him. “Are you sure you don’t need this meeting space? I would prefer it, but not if I’m inconveniencing your lab. I’m already putting them out.”

He caught a whiff of Natalie’s perfume when she swept past him, and he tilted his head. Had Raine worn that scent? Did his sister? He cleared his throat. “Putting them out? After that meeting, I think you have them wrapped around your finger.”

“I may have to tiptoe around Lou.” Crossing her arms, she wedged her hip against the table. “Otherwise, I had strict orders from my boss to fit in and make this as painless as possible for all of you. We know these anomalies aren’t the fault of you or your staff.”

“Ah, so it’s all an act?” He hitched his bag over his shoulder.

“Does it really matter? I’m here to do a job, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it done properly.” Her fingers curled into the silky material of her pale yellow blouse. She’d shrugged off her jacket a few minutes into the meeting, which hadn’t taken away from her professionalism at all.

And she was a professional, although he was no longer convinced about her sincerity.

He turned toward the door. “It doesn’t matter to me. As long as you don’t ruffle feathers while you’re here, you’ll have the complete cooperation of my staff.”

She made a move behind him. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Your department heads are wonderful and seem like a competent group. I know we won’t have any issues at all.”

As he reached the door, the smell of her perfume wafted over him again, and he inhaled the scent of roses. He stopped short and spun around. “You.”

Her eyes widened, and she rose from the desk slowly. “What?”

Reaching behind him, he pushed the door to the conference room closed with a snap. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he saw her eyes dart over his shoulder at the closed door, her frame stiffening.

She asked, “What are you doing?”

“It was you in the woods last night on the Devil’s Edge Trail. It was you who accused me of murdering my wife.”