BELLA
“Yes, ma’am. I got a DNA profile for you. I just email you the report.”
“Thanks, Sheila. I’ll see you soon.”
“You gotdamn right! I’ma be front and center at that fancy-ass wedding of yours. I’ll be looking for my invitation.”
“Okay, lady. Talk to you later.”
“Later.” Bella hung up and shuffled the mouse around to wake her computer.
After a few clicks, she was in her email.
She found an email from the ME’s office and clicked to open it.
Inside was an attachment labeled with the report number.
After opening the attachment, Bella learned that the DNA found on the victim had come back to an unknown male.
Bella rubbed her temple and pushed her hair out of her face.
The sample had been taken from the victim’s genitals, which meant he’d clearly had sex with a man.
It also led Bella to the conclusion that the same unknown male had engaged in sexual intercourse before murdering the other victims as well.
Since the DNA had come back unknown, the assailant either had never been arrested or he hadn’t committed a crime that had required the collection of his DNA.
Bella sighed. She was no closer to solving the murders than before she’d gotten the DNA profile.
She clicked out of her email and grabbed her keys.
Just as she stood to leave, her cell vibrated in her back pocket.
She pulled it out and saw that it was Taylor.
“Yo, what part of the United States are you in right now?”
“Headed to the compound,” Taylor squealed. “I am so excited for a two-day break from the campaign trail.”
Bella walked over to the elevator and pushed the button to go down. “I’ll bet you are.”
“Aaaaand,” Taylor sang. “I’ve come up with the greatest idea.”
“Oh, shit!” Bella muttered.
“No, it’s really good,” Taylor assured.
“Mm-hmm, I’m listening.”
“Well, since life been lifin’ its ass off, I thought I’d throw you a bachelorette party at the compound.”
“Mm-mm. I don’t want a bachelorette party.”
“What? Girl, it’s just gonna be us. Since we’re still being hunted, I figured the compound is the safest place to have a little get-together. And it’s Halloween! We could all use a little fun.”
Bella sighed. “Okay, but, no strippers. I mean that.”
“Strippers, no. Costumes, yes,” Taylor countered. “Just us girls, a little food, and a lot of liquor.”
Taylor was right. The last few months had been rough on them all. A night to let their hair down couldn’t hurt. “Okay, I can go for that.”
“Cool. I’ll see you in the Hoosier State.”
“Yep. Talk to you later.” Bella ended the call and stepped into the elevator. Closing her eyes, she prepared herself for the long day ahead. She was planning to recruit a handful of officers from the watch to canvas every one of the victims’ neighborhoods all over again.
A few minutes up Harrison Street had Bella passing the office of the medical examiner.
Since she was starting from scratch, she figured she’d run in and see if Niyah had any useful information.
She parked her unmarked vehicle right near the main entrance and walked inside.
After bending a few halls, she arrived at Niyah’s office.
She was prepared to knock, but the door was cracked. Raised voices escaped the room.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
One of the voices was Niyah’s for sure.
“What is it that you want me to say?”
The other, she didn’t recognize. Leaving would have been the polite thing to do, but Bella was a detective conditioned to be nosy. So, she pushed the door open and walked in. “Oh, hey. Sorry to interrupt.”
She wasn’t sorry.
Niyah’s eyes widened with fear. She looked at Bella like a woman who’d been caught with her skirt around her ankles.
Why so guilty? Bella wondered. “Everything okay?”
“Y-yes. It’s… um… It’s fine,” Niyah stuttered.
Bella studied her friend with a wrinkled brow. Niyah was behaving like a guilty person, but what was she guilty of? What the fuck was wrong with her? Why was she acting all weird? And who the fuck is this?
Bella watched as Niyah tried to pull herself together. She straightened her spine and pretended to act normal. Only Bella wasn’t buying it. “What’s wrong?” she finally asked.
Niyah forced a smile. “Nothing. Just fighting with my sister.”
Bella knew Niyah had a sister, but she’d never met her. From her understanding, her sister had spent a lot of time in and out of rehab. “Hi. It’s Naomi, right?”
Naomi smiled. “Yes. Hi.”
Niyah’s sister was beautiful. If she was a drug addict, you couldn’t tell by looking at her. With her curvy body and long limbs, she looked more like a supermodel. “I’m sorry for interrupting. But it’s really nice to meet you.”
Niyah cleared her throat. “Naomi, this is Bella.”
Naomi’s eyes widened as if she recognized the name. “Oh, Bella... the big-time detective. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise.” Bella stared with a squint. Other than sharing the same complexion, the sisters didn’t look much alike.
Both were pretty, but with completely different features.
The soft lines of Niyah’s full face and pronounced dimples were a noticeable contrast to Naomi’s sharp jawline and high cheekbones.
Naomi was athletically lean, whereas Niyah was voluptuous and curvy.
“Bella?”
Niyah’s voice snatched her out of her thoughts.
“We were kind of in the middle of something.”
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry. I just stopped by to see if you got anything back from the crime lab.”
Niyah shook her head. “Not yet.”
Bella pursed her lips. She knew for a fact, Niyah had been cc’d on the email from Sheila.
Either she hadn’t checked her mail or she was lying.
Niyah’s demeanor caused Bella to suspect the latter.
Something wasn’t right. Bella couldn’t put her finger on it, but she trusted her instincts.
“Okay, I’ma let y’all get back to what you were doing. Naomi, it was nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you too,” she replied with a smile.
Bella knew she was looking at the woman a little too long, so she cleared her throat and turned to leave.
“See you later, Bella,” Niyah called.
“All right,” Bella responded over her shoulder.
She entered the hall, grabbed her phone from her back pocket, and scrolled until she found the email from Sheila. A little voice in the back of her head told Bella to take another look at the DNA profile.