Page 61 of The Butterfly Killer

It was unprofessional to get giddy. He schooled his features as much as possible when it felt like they were on the cusp of a breakthrough. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled off the case. They were short staffed as it was. Pulling Patrice off the case would only slow down the investigation.

Trinity finally took a step into the room, but she still hung by the door. Patrice frowned when he noticed she was clutching the autopsy file close to her body.

“What is it?”

She opened her mouth for a second longer before she spoke. “I-I need a second opinion.”

Patrice cocked his head, his brows furrowing. He stood up, now knowing that something was really wrong if Trinity was asking for help. She was a medical examiner in training and the only time she asked for help was when there was definite cause for concern with the body.

He crossed the room, his worry and curiosity now growing at the expression on her face. She lowered her gaze to the file in her hand. She opened it up as he stood next to her.

He took the pages with a delicate hand. He felt as though if he made any sudden movements, she’d scurry off like a deer. However, she held her place. It seemed that whatever had made her uneasy was safely tucked away in the folder he now possessed in his hands.

He opened the folder and scanned the information. His brows rose and then furrowed as he squinted in confusion at the test results.

“The strings of DNA match.”

Trinity nodded. “Not only that. I ran the test again and looked what I found.”

She flipped the page to the next and pointed to a string of letter and numbers. “The DNA pulled from the previous scenes all have this specific marker. There are variants in the second DNA from the newer murders, but they contain this same marker. They’re related.”

This was major. This meant the copycat might intimately know the original Butterfly Killer. They might even be working together.

Patrice closed the folder. He shouldered around Trinity to step out into the hall.

“Go back to the lab. Tell Destiny to find how closely related the two are,” he said over his shoulder, already walking down the hall.

Trinity started after him but stopped. “Where are you going?”

He held up the folder. “To tell those FBI agents personally. They need to know right away.”

They needed all the information they could get to catch this asshole.

Most importantly, they needed to find Marcus.

It was dark by the time Patrice made it to the other side of the police station. The labs and the morgue were located two floors up with a little more security than the rest of the station. The elevator was deserted as well as most of the all the stations. It was well past the time for people to leave though there were still plenty of people around for the night shift.

He nodded to a couple officers as he made his way through the bullpen. He knew exactly where the FBI agents and the local detectives had taken their workflow. The room was down a hall only next to one other office and the bathrooms.

Patrice held the file close to his chest as he stalked toward the door. His footsteps echoed in a rhythm that synced up with his pulse as he neared the room. He chastised himself for drinking so much coffee this morning. It was probably also why he’d had a lasting headache from the night before.

He shook the needless thoughts away as he knocked on the door and waited. The few seconds it took for someone to openthe door felt like eternity. The files burn into his chest. He was bubbling on the inside to do something about the information he now had.

When the door opened, he expected to see Agent Mercer or at least Agent Burns. However, the person on the other side of the door was Detective Blevins.

Though he tried, he couldn’t help the grimace he made.

“It’s good to see you too,” Blevins said. “What do you want?”

Patrice looked passed the detective and into the room. There was no one else. The white board was scrawled with different colored markers. The words were too small and far away for Patrice to make out, but he wasn’t interested in any of it.

“Where are Agent Mercer and Agent Burns?”

Blevins shrugged. “Probably resting. We’ve all been working hard.”

The way he said it was almost pointedly. Like Patrice was nagging them.

Patrice’s face darkened as he frowned. “So have I. I got some test results all of you might like to see.”

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