Page 55 of Sinful Reality

“A few small things, but nothing that really gets us anywhere. We’ve got DNA samples from the victims—Alana, in this case—and semen from the perpetrator. But something interesting you might not know,” a taunting dimple digs into her cheek, “ya know, since you never went to medical school, is that as a female who bore his child, Alana herself became somewhat of a chimera.”

“You’re losing me.” I crack an egg into the sizzling pan and reach for another. “Doctor words turn me on, but you’ve gotta explain it like I’m five?—”

She huffs. “Like the Greek mythological creature that was part goat, part lion, and part serpent.”

“Say psych,” I tease, cracking another egg and dropping it in with the first. “She’s part snake?”

“Say psych,” she counters dryly. “You’re not actually this dense, are you?”

Humored, I crack a half dozen eggs into the pan before lifting a fork and mixing them together. “Just keeping you sharp, Chief. I don’t understand the chimera reference.”

“Well, in my doctor-y world, we have what’s called fetal maternal microchimerism, which is the really interesting phenomenon where a child’s DNA passes through the placental wall and becomes a part of the mother. She, herself, becomes a chimera. Part her, part her child. The science has developed at a rapid pace, even in the years since Alana’s case.”

“Did the cells show something different from what you’d expect?”

“Not really.” She rests her cheek on her arm and exhales a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s the kind of thing I find interesting, but won’t help us solve this case until we have a perp to compare the samples to. However, Alana gave us something the others didn’t.”

“You mean, besides the baby?”

“Besides the baby.” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and watches me with kind eyes. “Whether on purpose, or pure hunger, Alana ate more than paper and cotton during her time in captivity.”

“Yeah?” I glance down at our eggs, my stomach twisting at the thought of a child being so hungry they would choose to eat household textiles. “Tell me she ate his driver’s license and social security number?”

She scoffs, sleepily blinking. “No. She ate hair.”

“Like… from her head?”

She hums out ano, the soft sound crossing the room to nestle in my heart. “Not her own. And better yet, not his either.”

Adrenaline pulses in my veins as I flip the stove off and turn to stare. “Way to bury the lede, Chief. That’s a big fucking deal. So they’ve pulled DNA off the hair and discovered it doesn’t belong to the same person who put a baby inside her?”

“Right. This person isn’t in the system either, but the lab ran STRs to see if the owner of the hair bears a familial link to the owner of the semen.”

“And?” I grab the lip of the counter in frustration. “Jesus, woman. Speak faster. Are they related?”

She smiles, her cheek smooshing against her hand to lend her a sweeter, more innocent expression she doesn’t normally have when running on all cylinders. “Thereappearsto be a direct link between the samples.”

“Appears?”

“These things take time, and the lab is wary of signing off prematurely. But yeah,appears. Not only that, but there’s no Y chromosome in the second set of data.”

“No…” I frown. “The hair belongs to a female?”

“Uh-huh. There wasn’t a lot to work with. I assumed it was her own hair, so I bagged and tagged and sent it off for testing years ago, but nothing came of it. Now the lab is taking a second look, and this is what they’ve come up with. This female was someone Alana obviously spent significant time with. And that’s…” She sighs again. “That’s all we’ve got so far. Unfortunately, it’s about as helpful as havinghisDNA from the beginning. Seems like a big break, but unless we have a suspect to compare it to, we’re no better off.”

“We are better off.” I’m losing her. Her eyes grow darker, and her body slackens, so I switch the heat back on and get to work finishing her dinner. I toss a slice of bread in the toaster and mix the eggs. “Before, we had just one guy working alone. Same DNA on every scene, same method, same kills. Now we have a male and a female, who are related in some way, working together. This female knew those little girls didn’t belong to them, which means she is as complicit as he is. You’ve discovered this is not just one person, Mayet. It’s a big deal.”

“In theory.” She yawns. “But until we catch them…”

“Don’t go to sleep yet.” I clap my hands the way I used to when Mia was younger and we needed her to stay awake a little longer. Just ten more minutes. Just long enough to get her home or a meal into her belly. As soon as the toast pops, I slather butter on and scoop eggs on top of that. A sprinkle of salt and I consider her meal complete, so I circle the counter and head back to sit on the couch. “Eat this.” I hold the plate on my lap so she doesn’t send it flying, but I cup her cheek andwait for her eyes to flicker open. “Babe. Have a little, then you can go to bed.”

She licks her lips and looks down at the plate, a small smile curling up when she processes my gift. Then she reaches out and pinches a lump of egg between her fingers. “I feel horrible, because every time I try to imagine our perp, all I can see is fruit-shop Andy.” She rests on the back of the cushions and drops egg onto her tongue to slowly chew. “Aubree said I hear them, too. Like, the dead. She said it’s about intuition and reading what’s presented to us. And sometimes I think she’s right.”

“You think you can read them?”

“I mean…” She shrugs. “I wouldn’t admit it to her face, because she’s always so smug when she’s right. But I’m sick right now, and my brain is more whimsy than science. You’re my husband and you love me no matter what, so yeah, I can admit I sometimes read them. It’s not like a book with words on a page, single-spaced, with footnotes and chapter headings. But I guess I get afeeling. It’s not logical or anything, and I never rely on it. My education is firmly rooted in fact.”

Of course it is. Because Minka Mayet executes her job with data, not emotion.

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