Page 35

FAITH

S tepping back on the dock to get the storage shed in the frame, I snapped a photo. “So the shed wasn’t locked?” I asked the homeowner who’d reported a burglary of his scuba gear from said shed.

“Never needed to lock anything before,” the portly man in his sixties said, shaking his head. “Gettin’ more like Miami every day though.”

“Do you have any security cameras on the property?” I asked, scanning the corners of the neighbors house as well.

“Nope. Guess I ought to get some.”

“Or at least put a padlock on the shed,” I said, tucking my phone into my pocket.

“I have to be honest, Mr. Crowder. Since you don’t know even roughly when the theft occurred, there’s really not much we can do to try to find the perpetrators.

” He had noticed it missing yesterday morning, but the last time he was sure he’d seen it was over a month earlier .

“I understand. Thanks for coming out, Detective. I appreciate you.”

“You’re welcome, sir. Have a great rest of your day.” At least he was friendly. Even if the Keys were becoming more like Miami, it was still far more civilized.

The air conditioning in the station hit me with a frigid blast, chilling the sweat beads on my forehead. “Christ, Louis, what’s the thermostat set to? Antarctica?”

“Oh, is it too cold in here?” Louis answered, his brow creased with worry. “I don’t know, I’ll check.”

“Thanks, Louis,” I said, pushing an arm into my blazer.

Oscar was pacing behind his desk, a worried look on his face.

“Howdy, partner. What’s going on?”

“I wish I knew,” he said, lowering his voice. “Faith, this just keeps getting weirder. I don’t even know who to trust.” Oscar sounded agitated, and paranoid.

I cocked my head, studying him. The murder case was wearing on him too. “What? What happened now?”

“Let’s go to lunch. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

I stared at him, confused, but he was already heading for the door. I jogged to catch up, peeling off my blazer as I trotted down the steps.

Once we were seated in his Charger, Oscar opened up. “We got a hit on the CODIS search, but it came back inconclusive,” he said.

My nose scrunched as I tried to make sense of what he’d said. “Inconclusive? What does that even mean? ”

“I did some digging. Seems like there was a match in the system, but I can’t access it,” he replied, sounding irritated. “The profile is locked.”

“Locked? Why would it be locked?” I asked as Oscar made a quick left turn into Tavernier Creek Marina, where my favorite dockside Cuban cafe happened to be.

“Hell if I know. All I can tell is that it’s restricted, meaning I don’t have the clearance to view the file,” he spat out the words, clearly frustrated at being told his clearance wasn’t high enough. That man’s ego would get the best of him someday.

Redirecting to look for a solution, I asked, “Okay, who do we need to call for clearance?”

Oscar slammed the car in park and swung the door open. “I’m not sure. I’ve got a call into the Feds in Miami. It might take some time, if they’ll even talk to us. I’m just keeping you in the loop, because that’s what partners do.”

He just had to get that last dig in. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

After we sat at a weathered picnic table in the shade, I perused the menu. It was pointless to look because I got the daily special every time, no matter what it was. It was always excellent and reminded me of my mother’s cooking.

“A hit in the system means there is a match, right?” That sounded like good news to me, since it might get Oscar to drop Coulter as a suspect.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t know what any of it means. But it sure seems like there’s a major cover up here. And we’re left in the dark,” Oscar said bitterly .

I didn’t want to let him pull me down any conspiracy theory rabbit holes.

Oscar seemed like the kind of guy who spent way too much time on Reddit filling his head with outlandish explanations of ordinary things.

“Let’s focus on what we do know. There must have been a match, or you wouldn’t have gotten any results at all. ”

“Fat lot of good that does us if they’re hiding the results,” Oscar said far louder than he should have, then finished with an even louder, “This is bullshit!”

The waitress startled behind him, giving me a concerned look. “Are you ready to order?”

I nodded, my face flushing with embarrassment. “What’s the special today?”

“ Cochon with moros y cristianos .”

I chuckled at the Spanglish I’d grown up with. “I’ll have that, por favor .” Oscar ordered a mundane Cuban sandwich and fries and waited until she was well out of earshot.

“I’m telling you, there’s something fishy going on here.”

“Well, I think this is good news. It means that someone knows whose DNA was under Kylie’s fingernails.” That DNA belonged to the killer. I knew it in my bones. But somebody way above my pay grade was trying to keep it a secret.

“There’s no news at all,” Oscar countered, “except that someone is obstructing our investigation.”

I tried to imagine what dark alley his paranoid mind was wandering down. “You can’t possibly think the Sheriff is involved with this?”

“I can’t rule anything out until we know what the hell is going on. ”

“But if there’s DNA evidence that would clear Coulter, Waylan would be the last person that would want to cover it up.”

“Unless it belongs to someone else he wants to protect.”

“Oscar,” I said with a measured tone to avoid sounding confrontational, because that’s what partners should do. “No one from the Monroe County Sheriff’s Department could alter results in the federal CODIS system.” Give me a fucking break.

“We don’t know what kind of contacts he has. Or what he’s involved in. Don’t be too trusting, Faith,” he said, assuming his default condescending tone, “Or you’ll sound naive.”

It was tempting to tell him not to be too distrusting or he'd sound paranoid. Instead, I said, “I’m just trying to be objective.”

We ate our lunch in virtual silence. Oscar looked miserable while he shoved his sandwich down his throat. I savored the daily special that was seasoned with the hope that we were one step closer to finding Kylie’s killer and clearing Coulter’s name.

In the car heading back to station, Oscar grumbled, “We have to keep this under wraps for now. Not a word of it to anyone.”

“That makes sense.” I didn’t buy into the conspiracy theory but there was no point in sharing the inconclusive results until we had more information.

We were almost back to the station when Oscar’s phone rang. He glared at it before he answered through the car speakers, “Detective Ramirez. ”

“Good afternoon, Detective. This is Agent James Flannigan with the FBI. I got your message.”

Oscar’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh. Thanks for calling me back so soon. I have you on speaker with my partner Detective Pierce. What can you tell us about the locked profile in CODIS?”

“Not much I’m afraid. The match you hit is part of an ongoing federal investigation so I can’t share any details.”

“The perp is implicated in a murder investigation here. We need answers,” Oscar said, sounding more annoyed than I thought he should have.

The agent answered patiently, though. “I’m aware. We’ll be taking over that investigation now. But we’ve got your guy, and we will prosecute him.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. After all this, we still didn’t have any answers and now the feds were cutting us off at the knees. “What are we supposed to tell the victim’s family?” I asked.

“That he’s going away for a very long time,” the agent answered.

“So you have the perp in custody?” Oscar asked, fuming.

“Yes. We brought him in on unrelated charges. But when your message was relayed to me this morning, I reviewed the case records in your system. It ended up being a good bargaining tool for us to get him to talk.”

My mouth dropped open. Son of a bitch. “You questioned him about the murder?”

“Yes, with the threat of the death penalty if he didn’t talk. He admitted to killing the girl. ”

A chill ran through me as he continued.

“We’re working on getting the details and tying it into the bigger case.”

“Please loop us in as soon as you can,” I said, disappointment heavy in my voice. “We’d like to know the outcome of the trial.”

“Will do. I’ll share what I can as soon as I’m able.”

Oscar’s head hung after we’d rolled to a stop in the station parking lot. “I’ll be damned.”

Seeing him so dejected, I had to wonder if it was having the case yanked out from under us, or having to give up his pursuit of Coulter as the murderer, that had gotten him so down. “They’ve got the killer, Oscar. That’s what counts.”

“More questions than answers, that’s what we got,” he grumbled as he stepped out of his Charger, slamming the door behind him.

His frustration was understandable. But as far as I was concerned, I had all the answers I needed. “We can close this case in good conscience now. Don’t you agree?”

“Just write up the report,” Oscar sighed as we walked into the station.

“No problem,” I said. “I’ll get that done now. And then I’m taking tomorrow off.”

“I guess you deserve a day off,” he conceded.

“So do you, Detective. Let this case go and do something fun .” I gave him a long look, wondering what that meant for him. “Take your wife down to Key West for the day,” I suggested.

“No thanks,” Oscar grinned. “I’d rather work. ”

“Suit yourself.” I wasted no time typing up the report. It didn’t take long with the details so sparse.

From the sample obtained from underneath the victim’s fingernails, a DNA match was found in CODIS that belonged to a suspect in federal custody.

Agent James Flannigan with the FBI confirmed that the suspect had confessed to the crime, but the suspect’s identity cannot be revealed at this time.

Per orders from Agent Flannigan, all evidence and case files are being turned over to the FBI to continue the investigation and prosecution.

When I hit the upload button to close the case, a weight lifted off my shoulders. But my heart was still heavy. I had to find Coulter to tell him it was finally over. I had to make it right.