Page 125 of Raise Hell

If nothing she told me was the truth, then I need to find out as much about this girl as I can.

Who was she before she came to St. Bart’s?

Is there something in her past she hasn’t told me?

There has to be something that would explain why the alumni want her out of the picture so damn badly.

I didn’t tell the police chief any details when I called to let him know I was on the way, just that I need a set of fingerprints run through the national database. I made it clear I would make it worth his time to get out of bed in the middle of the night.

You can accomplish a lot with a crooked cop and enough available cash.

Money talks.

Or in this case, money gives civilian access to the FBI database.

“Your father has made it very clear how much he appreciates the relationship we’ve had over the years.” Captain Humphrey rambles as I follow him through the tiny precinct. He doesn’t precisely sound nervous, but he also won’t shut the fuck up. “I hope you’ll pass on my thanks for the recent donation he made to the Drumville Policemen’s Auxiliary Fund.”

“I’ll let him know.” I take a seat at the desk across from him, striving to hide my annoyance.

“Do you have the item?”

I hand him the rosary in a plastic baggie. Aside from her phone, I can’t think of anything more likely to be covered in Olivia’s fingerprints. Though it would probably have taken longer for her to notice if the phone went missing. Every time she thinks no one is looking, Olivia has her hand in her pocket as she plays with this rosary.

Memento mori.

Remember you must die.

The skulls gleam dully in the light. I can’t fight the impression that those carved eyes are staring me down.

Captain Humphrey picks up the bag and swings it carelessly from his fingers. “You didn’t say on the phone what this was about.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He waits a beat when I don’t elaborate and then loudly clears his throat. “The crime lab has been slow lately, so it shouldn’t take long to get this processed. Hopefully, the tech can get decent prints off this thing.”

I’m not really expecting her to be in the system. I’m not actually expecting much of anything.

But something about this girl is off. I need to find out what it is. She isn’t going to tell me anything herself, that much is abundantly clear.

Olivia Pratt is a smoothly polished surface, like a shiny mirror. The longer I think about her, the more I only see my own confusion reflected back at me.

Captain Humphrey stands with the rosary in his hands. “Can I get you a cup of coffee, or something?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, shouldn’t be more than an hour for basic criminal record search. Might be longer if we have to expand to military or international records.”

With an annoyed sigh, I motion for him to go ahead. “I doubt that will be necessary. Thank you.”

He nods and blinks a few times before walking away, presumably in the direction of the crime lab that I assume is one person with a computer.

Small town cops are easy to bribe. Most of the ones in Drumville barely make the cost of tuition at St. Bart’s in a year. I wish I could tell him there are easier ways to barely avoid qualifying for food stamps.

But it also means that another “donation” will go as far as I need it to go.

Which just means more anger simmering up to the surface.

I hate everything about this.

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