Page 31 of Den of Iniquity

“In going through the evidence box, I found that a female DNA profile was obtained from a syringe located at the scene, and I’m wondering what you can tell me about it.”

I handed her my notebook, pointing to the place where I had written down the state patrol’s assigned case number. She studied it for a moment, then typed something into her computer.

“Here it is,” she said. “What do you want to know?”

I said, “A note in the evidence book indicated that the profile was entered into CODIS, but that you didn’t get a hit.”

“We didn’t,” Gretchen told me, “but someone else did.”

That remark put me on full alert. “Who?” I demanded. “When?”

“The same female profile—still unidentified—was found in connection with another drug overdose victim, one from over near Spokane. The guy’s name was Jake Spaulding, age thirty-four. On July 10, 2019, he was found dead in a vehicle parked outside a local bar in Liberty Lake, Washington.”

“Case number?” I asked.

She read it off to me.

“Manner of death?”

“Undetermined.”

“Cause of death?”

“Inhaling vaporized fentanyl,” Gretchen replied. “A vape pen with his fingerprints on it was found inside the vehicle. As for the female DNA profile? That was found on a car door handle rather than on the vape pen itself.”

“Do you know what happened to the case once they had that information?”

“Our job is to process the evidence,” she reminded me. “Whatinvestigators do with it after that is none of our business, but as far as I know the case remains unresolved at this time.”

“Was there a detective assigned to the Liberty Lake case?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Detective Ronald Wang,” she answered, consulting her computer screen. “And I suppose you’d like to have his number?”

“Absolutely.”

“What are you thinking about all this?” Gretchen asked, once I had added Detective Wang’s name and number to my notebook.

“I suspect we could be looking at a female drug dealer who is somehow managing to operate under the radar. And since we’ve linked her to at least two separate overdose deaths, I’m wondering how many more of those are still out there that we have yet to discover.”

“All right,” Gretchen replied. “Keep me posted. If there’s anything more we can do on this end, let me know.”

“Believe me, I will,” I told her. I started to leave, but then one more thought occurred to me. “What about this? If someone from TLC asked for a copy of that female DNA profile, would you be able to release it?”

“TLC,” she repeated. “Isn’t that the cold case organization you work with?”

“Yes, The Last Chance.”

“I don’t see why not,” Gretchen said with a shrug.

“Stay tuned then,” I told her. “And don’t be surprised if you get a call from Lulu Benson asking for exactly that—a copy of the profile. She’s recently joined TLC.”

Gretchen’s face lit up. “Lulu Benson. Are you kidding? You meanas in the Lucille Benson from the Nebraska State Crime Lab in Omaha?”

I have to admit that I was surprised by Gretchen’s instant recognition of the name. “That’s the one,” I replied. “Do you know her?”