Page 15 of CJ

CJ stared at Jill, then looked at the other men and women in the room. This wasn’t just about someone murdering Tim. Someone was trying to kill Jill.

“We’ll take a look at the reports to see what was lifted off the door,” said Sor. He and Fitch left the room, heading to the crime lab.

“I think we need to dig into the last few missions that Tim’s team was on,” said Georgie. “Brix and Moose, you guys come with me. Jill? I know this will be difficult, but you, CJ, and Dan find Alana. She’s met you several times. See if she can tell you anything. Verbally or non-verbally.”

“Are we taking this on as a case?” asked Jill.

“Someone tried to kill you, or at the very least, killed your ex. There’s so much garbage around this whole damn thing it’s making my head spin. This Alana woman sounds like she’s right in the thick of all of it, and I don’t like it one bit. So, you’re damn right, we’re taking this on,” said Georgie.

CJ gripped Jill’s hand, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s all gonna be okay. You heard the lady. Let’s go find a killer.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“The toxin on the door was an artificial form of Sumac,” said the lab tech.

“Sumac? Like the plant?” frowned Sor.

“Exactly like the plant. It appears that Sgt. Weathers was deathly allergic to Sumac and Hemlock. Either would have killed him almost instantly without an epi-pen and someone to get him to the emergency room quickly.”

“Was there an epi-pen found on him?” asked Fitch.

“No. He had one in his bag in the truck, but he didn’t stand a chance of reaching it. The doorknob was coated in a liquified form of it. Someone knew that he was allergic to it and really amped up the toxin.”

“What about Jill? Was she allergic to it?” asked Fitch, staring at Sor.

“That’s a great question.”

“No. She has no known allergies,” said Hiro through comms. Sor and Fitch nodded, and the lab tech stared at them with a peculiar expression.

“No worries, man, we were just talking to ourselves. I think what doesn’t make sense here is that Sgt. Weathers wasn’t living at that address. He occasionally stayed there with his now ex-fiancé, but he didn’t live there permanently and had recently moved out and moved on. How on earth would someone know that he was coming back to that address?”

“That’s a question for you guys,” said the tech. “I only look at the evidence.”

“Anything else you can tell us that might be helpful?” asked Sor.

“Well, he was in quite a fight recently.” He tossed some photos on the table, and Fitch laid them out. “Two broken ribs, dislocated elbow, contusions all over his abdomen. Someone did a real number on him. There are some small knife cuts on his left shoulder blade that look as though they could have been made while he was trying to get away. I asked his commander about it, and he said they’d taken a beating on their last deployment.”

“You don’t sound as though you believe that,” said Fitch.

“I’m not an idiot. The dude’s last deployment returned before Christmas. Those marks were recent, like within a few days of his death. Since they didn’t cause his death, I didn’t argue with anyone about it. Just showing you guys because you’re obviously a little brighter than everyone else, and you seem to give a fuck.”

“We don’t give a fuck,” said Sor. “Not about him. We care about his ex who seems to have suspicion shining on her.”

The tech nodded at them, turning to grab something from beneath his keyboard. He pulled out a plain manila folder sliding it across the table.

“Old-school paper,” smirked Fitch. “Cool.”

“You won’t think so when you read it. I did the autopsy on Weathers’ wife’s late husband.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this, am I?” said Sor.

“Nope. Same injuries, same locations, when I got his body. They said he was killed by friendly fire on his op, but I didn’t buy it. Submitted a recommendation for further inquiry into his death.”

“What happened with the inquiry?” asked Sor.

“I was told to mind my own fucking business.”

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