Page 16 of The Last Close Call

She rested her hand on her hip. “Well... it’s complicated. But suffice it to say, it’s easier if you go backward and then work your way down. So, I zeroed in on my most promising match and went back, building a family tree to the great-great-grandparent level. And then I moved down, filling in gaps, using all kinds of research tools. That’s called ‘descendancy research,’ and that’s the fun part—using vital records, genealogy websites, even social media to infer the relationships between people.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Call me skeptical.”

“What, that it’s fun? Well, to me it is. Anyway, sometimes I get lucky and catch a break. Like in this case, someone on a genealogy website had publicly posted a family tree recently, so that helped me fill in some blanks in my research. And that’s when I homed in on this particular part of the tree.”

She turned to her whiteboard.

“Your unidentified subject—or UNSUB in cop jargon—belongs to this branch right here, I’m sure of it.” She tapped the whiteboard. “And that’s when I ran into your wall.”

“My wall,” he repeated.

“The wall you told me about at the bar.”

She smiled, and Jack felt a jolt of warmth. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen from her, and it lit up her whole face.

“I broke through it,” she told him. “I think I figured it out.”

“And?”

“And your UNSUB is adopted.”

FIVE

Jack stared at her. “Adopted.”

“That’s right. I’m almost certain of it.”

She wished she could say she was 100 percent certain, but she didn’t like to use numbers like that, especially with cops.

His brow furrowed. “How do you know this?”

“Because”—she gestured to the whiteboard—“it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

He turned to the whiteboard and folded his arms over his chest. Rowan tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged. She wasn’t used to having a man in her messy home office. Or in her home at all, really. She didn’t entertain much, and she sure as hell didn’t entertain cops.

“Here’s our best match.” She tapped a name on a sticky note. “I think this woman is a first cousin of your UNSUB’s mother, which would make her a first cousin once removed from your suspect.”

Jack stared at the name. “Could he be her son? Looks like she has children.”

She shook her head. “Not enough DNA overlap. Parent-child is a first-degree match, and this looks more like fourth degree.” She tapped again on a different sticky note with the name Joy Kendall. “I think this is your UNSUB’s mother. Even though according to the family tree posted by one of her relatives, this woman has no children.”

He glanced at her. “You’re sure about this conclusion?”

“Almost positive.” She eased closer and studied the family tree she’d painstakingly constructed over the past three days. “Like I said, there are a few other possible explanations, but I’ve been doing this awhile, and I tend to go with Occam’s razor.”

“The simplest explanation is usually the right one.”

“Exactly.”

She watched his face, looking for clues to his reaction. But he was good at masking. His expression was almost unreadable... except for the spark of intrigue in his eyes. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin.

“Interesting,” he said, still staring at her board.

“Interesting, as in... you buy it? Or you don’t believe me?”

He glanced at her. “No, I believe you. You’re the expert. I’m just thinking about where we go next.”

“We?”

---