Page 42 of Follow Her Down
“I’ll get it to the lab,” I say, already mentally composing the awkward conversation I’ll have with our long-suffering lab tech, Marla.
“Priority,” Vincent adds.“Above the Red Hands case.”
Since when does shit override a serial killer?
I leave with my fragrant package, contemplating what kind of person would dare antagonize Sheriff Vincent Harrow with something so childishly provocative.Someone with nothing to lose, maybe.Or someone playing a very dangerous game.
***
“You want me to do what?”Marla stares at me over her glasses, her expression oscillating between disgust and disbelief.
“DNA test.Shit.Sheriff’s orders.”
“And this takes precedence over a serial-killer case because…?”
“Because Vincent has priorities that are different than everyone else’s.”I lower my voice.“Look, just run it, okay?See if you can pull any human DNA—skin cells, anything that might identify who handled it.”
Marla sighs dramatically.“Fine.But you owe me.Like, fancy coffee and actual pastries from that place downtown, not the vending machine crap.”
“Deal.”
I spend the rest of the morning interviewing Melissa Holloway’s roommate, who insists Melissa never mentioned feeling threatened or stalked.She just disappeared after her shift at the Daisy Chain Café.No warning.No signs of a struggle in her apartment.Just gone, until she reappeared in Sera’s basement.
After that, I swing by the Gas N’ Go to question Rick, but he’s not there.He's not anywhere, which doesn't exactly help him look innocent.
When I return to the station, Marla waves me over to her lab.
“Your poop results,” she says with mock solemnity, handing me a folder.“It’s mostly canine DNA, consistent with several different types of dogs.Mutt, mostly.But”—she points to a highlighted section of the report—“I did recover trace amounts of human epithelial cells.Skin cells, shed while handling the…evidence.”
“Do we have a match?”
“Actually, yes.”She looks almost surprised.“The profile came back with a hit in the system.Penelope Seskeny.”
The name means nothing to me.
“Who’s that?”
Marla shrugs.“Don’t know.Apparently has priors somewhere, enough to be in the database.You can look her up on your own.I’ve wasted enough time on shit.”
I take the folder to my desk and pull up the name in our system.The screen flickers, and a mugshot appears.
My heart slams against my ribs.
The woman in the photo is younger, slimmer, with blonde hair and a sharper jawline, but the eyes—those sad blue eyes that seem to look straight through you—are unmistakable.
Penelope Seskeny is Sera Vale.
I click through her record.Arrested when she was sixteen in Kansas City, Kansas, for burglary at a mall.Not much else on file, other than a few parking tickets.
I stare at her picture again.Her face is fuller now, she’s put on weight, her hair is dyed black instead of blonde, and she wears heavier makeup—but if I squint, it’s her.
My mind races, replaying our conversations, her flat expression at the crime scene, her directness about Rick when I spoke to her at her house… Who the hell is this woman, and what game is she playing?
I dig deeper, pulling strings with contacts in Kansas City to access more records.And then I find it: a police report, filed by Penelope Seskeny against—
I blink.Read the name again and again.Vincent Harrow.Sheriff Vincent Harrow himself.
The incident happened over five years ago.Rape and battery.
