Page 86 of Deep Tide

“The murder weapon,” Emmet said, staring at Nicole. “He didn’t clean it.”

“Didn’t clean it enough,” she said. “Some trace amount of a previous victim’s blood was transferred to our victim.”

“Interesting.” Brady steepled his hands together under his chin.

Nicole felt a swell of pride that she’d managed to get a decent lead. And on a Saturday, no less. The squeaky-wheel strategy seemed to be working, and she was developing a good rapport with the lab supervisor.

She cleared her throat and continued. “Combined with the blue cordage—which isn’t totally conclusive evidence. I mean, that could have been a coincidence—but combined with that, we can now confirm that whoever carried out the hits in San Antonio is responsible for Amelia Albright,” Nicole said.

“Well, at least we know they used the same murder kit. Same knife, same bindings. Could have been a different hit man,” Emmet pointed out.

Nicole nodded. She hadn’t thought of that, but he was right.

“At any rate, it definitely connects the three crimes,” she said. “So, that’s big.” She glanced at Brady, looking for confirmation.

He was still watching her over his steepled hands.

“The San Antonio detective, he give you any details about the MO?” the chief asked. “Besides the killing itself?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“How did they track the vics?” he asked. “The Massey woman was dumped behind her apartment building, right? But the other guy—Rincon—he was ambushed after leaving a bar. How’d they know he’d be there?”

“Yeah, I asked that,” Nicole said. “The detective told me they assume whoever carried out the hit had been following the guy around. It wasn’t a place Rincon frequented, so they figured he must have been followed there. And based on some fiber evidence, they believe he was picked up while walking to his car, then bound, beaten, and questioned in the back of a vehicle before being stabbed and dumped in the alley behind the bar.”

“Fiber evidence?” Emmet asked.

“Yeah, some carpet fibers,” Nicole said. “And that’s a good detail for us to be aware of, too. San Antonio recently got the lab results back on the carpet fibers. They were run through a national database, and the fibers came back to a Dodge minivan. We don’t have an exterior color, unfortunately, because a lot of the vans have black carpet inside. But that’s where they think someone held Rincon and questioned him.”

“The van could have been a rental,” McDeere said.

She nodded. “True. Also, we don’t have any reason to think Amelia was held inside a vehicle. Based on the blood traces inside the coffee shop storeroom, it looks like she was held in there.”

Silence settled over the room as she looked around.

“Where are we on those security cams?” Brady asked, turning to McDeere.

“I’ve talked to every business in the area,” McDeere said. “Surf’s Up, the gas station across the street, the souvenir shop, even the grocery place three buildings down. No one had any outdoor cameras that picked up anything near the alley or the parking lot behind the Island Beanery. We’re out of luck on that front. Too bad the Beanery didn’t have any cameras.”

“They do now,” Emmet said. “I was in there yesterday. Leyla just had some installed.”

“Okay, what about the boyfriend angle?” Brady asked Emmet. “You were going to reinterview some of her friends.”

“I did. One of them told me Amelia went on a few dates with some tech CEO who was down from Seattle,” Emmet said. “We’re assuming that’s Luc Gagnon.”

“Who is this friend?” the chief asked.

“One of the baristas she worked with. I hadn’t interviewed her before. Turns out they had a bunch of shifts together, so they talked a lot.”

“She say where Amelia met this guy?” Brady asked.

“She didn’t know,” Emmet responded. “Could have been at the coffee shop or a bar or anywhere. We know from Amelia’s friends that she liked to go out a lot.”

“So far, nothing on the sketchbook. I mean, in terms of fingerprints or whatever.” Nicole opened her file again and shuffled through until she found a printout of the sketches she’d discovered in Amelia’s apartment. She’d also found some photos online of Luc Gagnon. She’d printed several shots, including profiles and straight-on angles. “Here are some pictures for comparison.” She slid the printouts across the table to Brady and Emmet.

They leaned forward to study the pictures, and Nicole waited expectantly. She knew what Brady was going to say even before he said it.

Brady looked up. “Inconclusive.”

---