Page 63 of Our Daughter's Bones

“Good. Damn Hawkins. Has he ever taken a bullet? No,” Sully grumbled, walking away.

“At least he’s got the guts to call people out!” Mackenzie called after him right before he closed the door. She picked up her badge and jacket and headed to the property room, where the evidence was stored.

The property room was always under lock and key, situated next to the custodian’s office. As Mackenzie climbed down the stairs to the basement, a musty smell greeted her. Bare bulbs, dangling from the low ceiling, emitted circles of light on the floor. It was the only section of the building that hadn’t been renovated, due to “structural foundations.”

She walked past the crudely built rooms of timber and drywall.

“Sean?” She peeked inside.

Sean Dobbs, the evidence room clerk, looked up from his computer. “Detective Price. How’s it going?”

“Good, good.” She entered the stuffy, windowless room. “I wanted to inspect some evidence on the Perez case.”

“Do you want to check any out?”

“No. I want to take a picture. You know which locker has the contents of her room, right?”

“Yep.” He stood up and picked one of the keys hanging on the wall. “Just fill out the register.”

Mackenzie found the page. She was about to write her name when she saw “Daniel St. Clair” was the latest entry. The time code was yesterday afternoon at 4:47, right after their meeting in Sully’s office. “Agent St. Clair was in yesterday?”

“Yes, he wanted to just look over some things. He didn’t take anything.”

What was Daniel doing accessing the evidence store? He was just a consultant. Did Nick know about this?

Sean led Mackenzie into the room full of lockers. He unlocked the relevant one and stood to one side as she sifted through for the printed paper napkin. Once she found it inside a plastic bag, she turned it around to inspect it. It was plain white, with dark blue ink running along the border. On the top right corner was the logo—printed in blue.

There were two Xs wedged between two straight lines running parallel above and below the letters. Between the Xs, there was a circle. Inside the circle, there were two wavy lines—one horizontal and one vertical—intersecting each other right in the center. There were diagonal lines extending upwards and towards each other from the end points of the top line, but the paper napkin was torn at the end.

Mackenzie frowned. The symbol was incomplete. It looked like there could be a triangle there, forming the top of the logo? The base of it would be the line above the Xs. But she wasn’t sure. Below the bottom line, under the letters, was printed the number “916.”

“Does this mean anything to you?” She showed it to Sean.

Sean shrugged.

Mackenzie snapped several shots of it with her phone. On her way back to the office, she stared at the picture. She had never seen this symbol before. It had to be a custom design, rather than a stock image. The shapes were precise. This wasn’t a steak house with a cow on its napkins; a hair salon with a pair of scissors on its price list. The shapes looked like they meantmore.

She walked into someone. “Ouch.”

“Sorry,” Daniel grinned. “You okay? You looked engrossed in your phone.”

“Yeah, I didn’t see you there.”

“Gum?” When Mackenzie shook her head, he put it in his mouth. “What’s up? I heard that Eddy was a dead end.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I still got people keeping an eye on him though. Just in case. What were you up to yesterday evening?”

“Wasn’t feeling great.” He patted his flat tummy. “Ever since I got here, I’ve been eating takeout. In fact, I’m going to go grocery shopping today and start cooking like an adult.”

“Oh, too bad. So, you just went home after Clint’s update?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just curious.” She shrugged and pretended to fiddle with her phone, staying casual.

Daniel narrowed his eyes and then recoiled. “Oh, Ididpop down to the evidence room first. I just wanted to see everything in person. I don’t like just seeing pictures, you know?”

She gave him an easy smile. The gentleness of his face was a useful weapon. She bet it had lured several into a confession. “Sure. Actually, I needed your help.” She showed him the picture. “This logo was on a paper napkin in Erica’s room. I don’t know what it is. But I think it belongs to some club? Could be a lead? It’s a long shot, but I know the FBI has a better database for image-based matching. Maybe this symbol’s on there? Think you can check this for me?”