Page 26 of Crime Lab Cold Case (Pacific Northwest Forensics #2)
Ibarra shook Michael’s hand. “I’m glad Peaches is back, Michael—for your little girl. I’m glad the dog is back home.”
When they got back to the car, Natalie tipped back her head. “The worst part is that he’s not wrong. We just don’t have the proof.”
“Proof would’ve been stronger if you’d told him what you know about Katie’s pendant. Not pictures on a phone, not hearsay. It was your pendant, you let Katie wear it the night she disappeared, you saw it in the evidence from Sierra’s homicide. Proof.”
She whipped her head around at the hard edge to his voice. His tight jaw matched the tone. “If everyone knew about my connection to this area and to Katie Fellows, I wouldn’t even be here. You never would’ve known the bracelet attached to Peaches belonged to a past homicide victim.”
“But now we know the connections. It doesn’t have to be you.”
“Doesn’t have to be me, what?” She pursed her lips and dug her fingernails into the edge of the seat.
“You don’t have to be the one to solve Katie’s disappearance. You can help someone else do it. It’s still justice.”
Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she swallowed. “Just take me back to the lab. I have work to do.”
They finished the ride in silence and when Natalie got out of Michael’s car, he stayed put. They’d already agreed they shouldn’t be seen leaving together. She slammed the car door, anyway.
On a mission to get back to her office, she almost bumped into Jacob Reynolds moving some computer equipment. He made a grab for a keyboard as it slid from the cart. “Oops. Sorry, Agent Brunetti. Didn’t see you.”
She glared at his smiling face, so like his father’s, and growled. “Watch where you’re going.”
When she closed the door to the conference room, she immediately felt bad. It wasn’t Jacob’s fault his father was a jerk. He seemed like a nice kid.
She hadn’t seen Rachelle yet today and wondered if she was still sick. Should she go ahead and tour the DNA lab with Dr. Volosin alone? The thought made her skin crawl, and she pulled up the lab’s personnel files. She found Rachelle’s cell-phone number and called.
A woman answered tentatively after a few rings. “Rachelle? It’s Natalie Brunetti. Are you still sick?”
“Not feeling great. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for our appointment the other day, Natalie…and I know Dr. Volosin is back. He already called me with a thousand questions about how I ran the lab in his absence.”
“I feel for you. I met him last night. Unpleasant.” Natalie put her phone on speaker and strolled to the window to see if Michael had made his way back into the office yet. “I still need to tour the DNA lab. I wanted to wait until you’re there, even if Dr. Volosin joins us.”
“I’m still feeling under the weather, Natalie, and Dr. Volosin doesn’t make me feel much better, but…”
“But what?” The quality of Rachelle’s voice had changed. It had taken on a quality of urgency, one she’d heard the first time Rachelle suggested Natalie visit the lab before Volosin returned.
“I’d like to talk to you about a few things, and it would be better if we were away from the lab. C-can you come to my place this afternoon, or even after work?”
“I can do that. Are you far from the lab? I can drop by when I’m done at the lab, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine.”
Rachelle gave her the address of her town house on the lake, and Natalie jotted it down on a pad of paper.
After the call, Natalie tapped the pen against the pad.
Rachelle hadn’t even been working at the lab at the time of the cold cases Natalie was investigating.
Were things still off here? Or did Rachelle have some information about her boss who was here at the time of the cold cases?
For the next several hours, Natalie put aside the distractions and her own investigative efforts to work on the cold cases assigned to her. The other victims deserved their justice as much as Katie did hers.
She finished up the day by sending her boss another report. He’d be happy with her progress, and she had to keep him happy to stay out here and complete all her work, even the stuff he didn’t know about.
As she packed up her files and laptop, she glanced at her phone. Michael hadn’t dropped by or contacted her the rest of the day. She could understand his frustration, but she had to do this her way, or not at all.
Before she left the office, she entered Rachelle’s address in her phone’s GPS. Maybe she should tell Michael about her off-site meeting with Rachelle, but if the woman had info about the lab’s current state, maybe it would be better to keep this to herself.
The drive to Rachelle’s place didn’t take long and offered relaxing views of the lake on one side.
These developments had gone up since her residence here in Marysville.
She’d remembered her father complaining about the proposal to build on this side of the lake, but the tasteful town houses fit in with their surroundings.
Natalie wheeled into the guest parking lot and nabbed an empty spot. She had an easy time finding Rachelle’s building as a backlight illuminated the numbers on each one. She’d parked close to Rachelle’s building and the walkway that led into the courtyard.
Her boots clicked on the pavers, a harsh contrast to the soothing sounds of a bubbling fountain in the center of the courtyard. She ducked onto a rustic path that led to more town houses around the back.
Spotting Rachelle’s address, Natalie took the gravel path next to the lakeside walking trail to the town house. Moving furniture into this place had to be hell, but she’d take the inconvenience for the bucolic beauty.
A row of neat flowers edged the porch, and Rachelle had added more splashes of color with adorable window boxes. Natalie rang the doorbell next to the red door.
She shifted from one foot to the other, giving Rachelle time.
If she’d been the one home sick all day, it would take her a while to get to the front door.
Several seconds later, Natalie pressed the doorbell again, this time putting her ear to the solid door to listen for the sound of the bell inside. Yep, it worked.
Natalie placed her hand flat against the door. Was she okay in there? Did Rachelle have the flu? Nobody ever said.
Natalie curled her hand into a fist and knocked. “Rachelle? It’s Natalie. Are you alright?”
Was that a moan? A rustle? Natalie bit her bottom lip and tried the door. The handle turned beneath her fingers, and she pushed open the door.
She squealed as a cat jumped off a bookshelf and swished its tail with an angry squawk.
“Rachelle?” She closed the door behind her, so the cat wouldn’t run outside, and crept into the town house, although she didn’t know why she needed to be quiet. In fact, the quiet was unnerving.
She called Rachelle’s name again. A lamp lit the living room, along with the muted TV, but most of the light came from the kitchen. The cat had gone that way, so Natalie followed it.
As she peered into the kitchen, she gasped. Rachelle was lying crumpled on the tile floor, a broken bowl beside her and a smear of blood on her face.