26. Luke #2
I couldn’t find my voice for a moment. It was proof.
Indisputable proof that someone had tampered with the case file.
The document that was submitted and logged in to evidence clearly stated that the results of the DNA test on the cigarette were inconclusive.
It meant that Redmond couldn’t be implicated in it, but it was no exoneration either.
A non-match was entirely different. If it wasn’t Ryan’s cigarette, whose was it? Who left those marks on her body?
“The report,” I said. “It’s different.”
I turned the laptop to face her. It only took a moment for her to read the important stuff. There were more details pertaining to how the evidence was analyzed and what the findings indicated, but that wasn’t what I cared about right now.
This was a different version of the same report.
“Isn’t that supposed to say ‘inconclusive’?” She pointed to the spot on the screen where the results were written in bolded caps lock. I was speechless, staring at the report, willing it to change back to the document that we had on file.
Even during this investigation, all the times I had thought about us having a dirty cop on the force, I thought I was prepared for this outcome. But now that it was sitting in front of me in black and white, I realized I wasn’t as ready to face the facts as I thought I was.
“Do you have a printer?” I asked.
“No, but the Delano Library does.”
I nodded. That was a good plan.
“Eat first, babe.” She slid a biodegradable to-go container to me. My stomach roiled at the thought of food right now, but I tried to get a few bites down.
“I have to go. I’ll be back in a bit.”
The library was mostly empty at midday on a Tuesday. The toddler and preschool programs were usually done in the mornings, while study groups and adult-ed technology classes were scheduled for later in the day.
I popped my head into Claire’s office since I was here.
“Hey, Claire. You busy?”
“Luke!” she said, taken aback by my arrival but genuinely happy to see me. “What are you doing here? And no, not too busy. What’s up?”
“Do you have a printer I can use?”
“Of course,” she said brightly.
Claire let me log in to my email account from her computer rather than directing me to one of the public ones.
I quickly printed three copies of the report.
One for me. One for Wes. And one for safekeeping.
I was probably being ridiculous, but I would rather be too cautious than not cautious enough.
“Thanks. You and Reid still coming out tonight?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ll be there. Reid has been dying to ask how things are going with Scarlett. I think he’s more excited for you guys than anyone,” she laughed.
My baby brother was one of those people that, now that he was in love, wanted everyone else to be in love too.
As it turned out, I could understand that sentiment now.
Life was just better when you were with someone you loved, even when the rug was pulled out from under you and it felt like the reality you knew was crumbling—especially then.
I thanked Claire for letting me use her computer and printer and left with my documents in hand. I shot a quick text to Wes. I needed to fill him in on this development.
Me: We need to talk.
I waited by my phone like a teenager texting his crush. Wes didn’t respond right away though, so I pocketed my phone and went back to Scarlett’s place.
The day moved in a strange haze, both too quickly and too slowly for the rest of the afternoon. My mind kept fixating on the implications of the differing documents.
Scarlett was in the bedroom getting ready to go out tonight. It was just Harpoon’s with the crew for drinks, nothing fancy, but she was spending a ridiculous amount of time on something.
“Letty, you almost ready?” I called through the door.
“Yeah, two minutes. I promise.”
When she stepped out of the room a few minutes later, my heart sent a kick to my ribs.
She was stunning. In that silky black dress that floated against her skin, hugging her curves with a feather-light touch, the thin black straps that held it up that could so easily be slipped off her shoulder, she was exceptional in every way.
Her red curls were pulled back into a thick braid; some of the pieces in the front loose and wild around her face.
“I’m overdressed, but I don’t care. I wanted to wear this for you the other day, but we stayed in, and I didn’t get a chance to.”
“Fuck, Letty. You look even more beautiful than I imagined. Maybe we don’t have to go out tonight. Let’s just stay in again.”
Laughter made her eyes crinkle, and she swatted at my chest as she passed me in the doorway. “We are going out. But I was kind of hoping to lose this dress on your bedroom floor later.”
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, whispering in her ear, “I hate to tell you, baby, but there is no way that dress is making it past the living room once I can get my hands on you.”
My phone vibrated from my pocket, eliciting a growl from my throat when I had to let her go. Wes had finally texted me back.
Wes: Are you breaking up with me, Wilder?
My brows pinched until I reread what I wrote to him earlier. I chuckled. It did kind of sound like a breakup text.
Me: Redmond’s case. It’s big. Are you going to Harpoon’s tonight?
Wes: Yes.
Me: I’ll tell you in person .
I pocketed my phone again and lifted my eyes to Scarlett, looking like the supermodel she was. “Let’s get over there. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave, right?”
“So impatient,” she teased, shaking her head at me.
Harpoon’s wasn’t too crowded. Scarlett and I found Wyatt, Maeve, and Seb at one of the high-top tables. Reid and Claire joined us a few minutes later, followed by Wes not long after them.
Beers were ordered for everyone, as well as some apps for the table.
I caught Wes’s eye as the conversation flowed around us, jutting my head to the side to indicate a sidebar conversation. I placed a quick kiss to Scarlett’s temple and met Wes a few feet away.
“Here.” I passed him the folded-up forensic report from my back pocket.
“What is this?” His eyes scanned the document quickly. It took less than three seconds for him to figure out what he was reading. His face hardened, and his gaze raked through it again from top to bottom. “Where did you get this?”
“State lab sent it to me. The copy I had from the report got coffee spilled on it, so I asked for another copy. This is what they sent.”
“This says Ryan wasn’t the owner of that cigarette. Unless it was Alana’s, it’s safe to say that someone else—not Redmond—was there when she was killed. Someone else left those marks on her.”
“It wasn’t Alana’s. We had it tested for both of them. Alana’s came back as a non-match, and Redmond’s supposedly came back as inconclusive.”
“Think this was an honest mistake by someone? ”
“Honestly, no. I think the document on file as evidence was forged,” I said.
Wes scratched at his thick beard. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he processed this development.
“It was well done, but it wouldn’t stand up during the trial.
The forensic scientist would be called as an expert witness.
They would testify that they had different results.
Unless someone was paying them off, I guess. ”
“Hmm.” Wes made a noncommittal sound. “Anything is possible. But I don’t think so, otherwise you would have received the manipulated document.”
“True,” I agreed. “But why frame Redmond?”
“And who are they trying to save?” Wes responded.
“And who’s the one doing the saving?”
“Humph,” Wes responded, shaking his head. He pocketed the paper, and with a single head nod, we both went back to the group. I threw my head back and chugged the entirety of my beer.
Shit was about to get real messy.