Page 55

The overheads buzzedthe way only fluorescent lights could, intensifying the dull pounding in Dana’s temples. She found herself at Hartwell’s precinct, pouring over photographs of evidence from the Hayes murder. It was all that had been left behind after the case was taken from Metro.

Dana examined the scythe they’d collected from the park. She’d been over all thirty-one pieces of evidence they’d gathered with a fine-tooth comb but kept coming back to the same dilemma. “Without access to the original evidence there’s no way to make definitive connections or rule out if this is a new blade, or the same one used on Hayes.”

“We’re lucky DOJ left us with this much,” Hartwell grumbled, rubbing his bleary eyes before flipping to another page of photographs.

Hartwell wasn’t the only one showing signs of fatigue. They’d been at this for over an hour. Dana took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. She longed to be back in her own lab, where the lights weren’t so harsh and answers to all the questions bouncing around in her mind were at her fingertips.

She was sure her ancient tomes could shed light on the Reaper-like nature of these killings. But the odds of getting Hartwell to let her move the investigation out of the Metro police precinct to the bowels of the Smithsonian were nonexistent.

Again, she found herself missing Jake. Her partnership with him and the FBI had granted her certain liberties she now realized she’d taken for granted. Doing this on her own, and by the book, was much more difficult than she’d anticipated.

The red tape was endless. Hartwell shot down each of her suggestions, quoting the many policies they’d violate.

At her wits’ end, Dana asked, “DOJ hasn’t gotten back to you about access to the original evidence?”

“I’m not a damn genie, Dr. Gray. The DOJ isn’t at my beck and call.”

“Maybe I can offer some assistance.”

Dana looked up to see the Alchemist walking into the room. “What are you doing here?” she asked, delighted to see a friendly face after being surrounded by so much frostiness.

He returned her grin. “Officer Hartwell thought you might like some assistance.”

Dana looked at Hartwell, who crossed his arms. “What?” he asked. “I didn’t say I was useless.”

“Where shall we begin?” the Alchemist asked, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

“I guess at the beginning,” Dana suggested, feeling a renewed surge of energy.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Hartwell said, heading back out the door the Alchemist had just come through.

Dana quickly brought Dr. Raynard up to speed regarding the crucial evidence in Cash Holloway’s crime scene. Together they compared it to the Hayes scene. Location, weapon, time of day, gender, ethnicity, brutality, eyewitness descriptions.

Not much lined up. What did, was vague at best. And sadly, didn’t require her expertise to amass. Resting her elbows on the table in defeat, Dana squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to see some mystical missing link. Something only her particular skill set could explain. Without it, she had no hope of being officially assigned to the case.

No hope of keeping Claire safe.

No hope of helping clear Jake’s name.

What am I missing?

Dana heard Jake’s voice in her mind. Find the intersect. Find the killer.

The Alchemist spoke as though he had heard Jake, too. “I was sorry to hear about Agent Shepard. I always thought he was one of the good ones.”

Dana bristled. “He is one of the good ones.”

“The media seems to feel differently.”

“Jake is a decorated hero. A piece of unfounded bad press shouldn’t erase a lifetime of service. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Nothing would delight me more than to be proven wrong, Dr. Gray, but in my experience, in this town, accusations don’t need to be true to do irreparable damage.”

“And I’d wager to say it’s acceptance of baseless speculation that does the real damage.”

“Still, it would behoove you to keep your distance if you don’t want to be dragged down with the ship.”

“I’d rather sink at Shepard’s side than be a coward controlled by the tides.”

“Careful, Dr. Gray, blind loyalty is as dangerous as a scythe.”

“There’s nothing blind about me. We’re done here.”

Dana stormed out of the precinct, leaving the Alchemist to convey the line she’d drawn—an abyss, challenging all who’d attempt to cross.