Page 23 of Concealed in Death

“That’s good enough. It’s going to be on the low side of yours, the high side of his.”

“We haven’t yet determined—”

“It’s what makes sense. The last tenants vacated fifteen years ago last September, and that opens opportunity. At least some of these vics are going to connect to that last tenant—a shelter for kids—runaways and wards of court. It’s what fits.”

“It does.” Morris nodded. “You’ll find, Garnet, Dallas excels at finding the fit.”

“All well and good, and most certainly possible. But TOD is yet to be verified by the science.”

“You go ahead and verify,” Eve invited. “And if it’s not right about fifteen years, let me know. Where’s the reconstructionist?”

“I’ll take you. I’m having more tables brought in,” DeWinter continued as she started out. “I feel it will be helpful to have them all in one space as we continue the work.”

She turned into the music. “Elsie! How can you think with this so loud?”

“It helps me think. Mute music.” Elsie levered herself out of a chair, set the sketchbook and pencil she held aside. She wore her blue-streaked blond hair in dozens of thin braids that ended in tiny beads. She looked about sixteen in an ankle-skimming dress swirling with color, if you overlooked the fact that she was hugely pregnant.

“How are the twins?”

“Active.” Elsie rubbed her belly the way Eve had observed pregnant women did.

“Sit.”

“No, I’ve got to move around, too.”

“But not overdo.”

“Don’t say overdue!”

“How far along are you?” Peabody asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Detective Peabody, Lieutenant Dallas, Elsie Kendrick.”

“Welcome. I’m at thirty-three weeks, four days. I’m going to start counting hours soon. I feel like I’m carrying a couple of small, frisky ponies.” She pressed a hand to the side of her belly. “Wow. With really strong hooves. It’s taken me a while to get started, so sorry right off. Hormones, I guess. Reconstructing little girls. Mine are both girls. I had to have a little meltdown first.”

“Children always hit harder,” Morris said.

“Boy, don’t they? I was just finishing the first sketch. I always do a sketch, kind of a tribute, after a reconstruct. Let me show you the first girl.”

“Victim One?” Eve asked.

“Yeah, Garnet said to start in numerical.” She moved to the holo-table, tapped buttons. I got a ninety-six and change probability on her, so this should be close. It’ll be close enough for a match run.”

The hologram shimmered on.

Slim face, deep gold skin, dark Asian eyes, a short wedge of straight dark hair, full lips, strong nose, softly curved chin.

A pretty girl, Eve thought, with the potential of true beauty that would never be realized.

“Her racial profile weighed more heavily Asian, so I went with the probability of straight hair. Her facial bones and structure were both fine and even. Excellent bones. I added the nose stud, as Garnet said you found one, but I can take it out.”

“It doesn’t matter. This is good, really good. We need a copy. We’ll start running for a match.”

“We’re working on establishing TOD. It’s tricky to get a real pinpoint on that.”

“Fifteen years—in that area,” Eve said. “If you can narrow it more, it’ll help, but we’re reasonably sure of that. You said this one likely came from a solid middle-class or better.” Eve turned to DeWinter. “Had good health, good medical care. So it’s probable we’ll find a Missing Persons on her. What about Two?”

“I have the basics started.” Again, Elsie tapped buttons. “I’m going to want to work with it, adjust the data. But here’s what I have so far.”

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