Chapter 26
After Dom finished getting the basics from Heather and she promised to have Hope forward what she had found to him specifically, Dom headed back to the TSP. There was a certain little scientist he needed to talk to. He had been avoiding that all morning.
He’d had no business holding her last night. It had been all he’d been able to do to keep his hands from going places they shouldn’t. But she’d slept in his arms, her head on his shoulder. Like she’d slept there a thousand times before. Like she’d been right where she belonged.
It had knocked him for a loop. Reminded him that the only woman he’d ever truly want was the one he’d been holding deep into the night.
He’d just held her, listened to every sound she’d made.
He’d held her even closer when she’d had a nightmare.
It had been several hours later that he’d made the decision to put her in the guest bed where she belonged. And then keep his ass out on the couch.
Before he did something he’d regret for the rest of his life. But damn it, did he want her. More than anyone he ever had before. That had him extra tense when he went looking for her this time.
He found her right where he’d expected to find her. He stood where he was and watched her for a moment.
She had on her little white lab coat. He’d always found that more of a turn-on than he was ever going to tell her.
Maybe it was that when she wore the coat, she most often wore her glasses.
They were also a big turn-on. Dom was getting used to the idea that he’d want her no matter what she wore. Or didn’t wear.
His biggest fantasy was her, in nothing at all. No use denying that to himself.
“What is it?” She just blinked at him from behind those wire-framed glasses. He’d taken those glasses off of her face himself hours ago. And left them on her mother’s coffee table. He’d wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and just held her.
He never should have gotten near her. Now, the memories of holding her were going to drive him crazy.
“Here to see what you have for me from the Barratts’ last night.” They’d had three or four men flee the scene. Dom was going to identify them as quickly as he could. Then he was going to find the sons-of-bitches.
“I got the initial DNA back…from what we gathered from Timothy Grundenman’s hotel room this morning.
We’re still going through and labeling and processing the Barratts’ house now.
Jake and Bryant Naylor took a call from the hotel clerk.
He’d seen Timothy’s photo on the news, I think.
I had Pete process the room already. He and Tom are back there now. ”
She was whispering, even though no one was in the lab with them. He didn’t miss the way she looked around. Stepped closer. Dom hated that she didn’t feel safe in the place she worked most days. It shouldn’t be like that here.
“And?” There was something that was upsetting her. No denying that. Dom stepped even closer. Close enough to smell her damned shampoo. Hell, it was the same shampoo he’d used that morning, too. “What did you find?”
She handed him a report. “I…expected to see confirmation with…Heather’s niece.
Dr. Coleson. Samia. We know the little girl is her half-sister through their father.
I wanted to confirm if the jacket is hers.
This is a rapid-DNA test. It’s not admissible in court yet, but… it did give me confirmation.”
Dom looked at the evidence report, at the photos documenting a child’s small pink jacket.
Timothy Grundenman had multiple children—including a young child who was around the age of eight. A girl.
They had learned she existed several hours after the attack, through her half-sister. Timothy Grundenman’s eldest daughter—Brianna Claireson. A woman whose name had come up in several investigations in recent years. Imagine that.
Dom had a photo of Grundenman’s daughter on his phone now.
She had big, dark brown eyes and curly brown hair and so many freckles.
And a smile that was adorable. She looked a great deal like her older half-sister, a trauma physician at FCGH that Dom had met several times before. “Did you? Tell me what else you have.”
There was definitely something. Madison just had that look on her beautiful face.
“Here. This…I…someone is going to have to tell them. They have a right to know.”
Dom looked at the print-out. At the names listed there. “What does this mean? Spell it out for me.”
Although he was figuring it out himself really fast here. Interesting…connection.
“Timothy Grundenman’s daughter Angelina Anne-Marie Shannon—she’s…look at her half-sisters, Dom. All of them. Well, these are just the ones we have confirmed DNA profiles for.”
He read the list quickly. Well, that was surprising. And a very long list.
Samia Coleson, yes. That wasn’t a surprise.
They knew the child and that doctor shared paternal DNA.
But the rest of the names—surprising. Definitely surprising.
And it complicated things a bit. The governor’s wife Ariella Deane, Murdoch Lake’s wife Zoey Daviess Lake, Crispin Daviess, Penelope Daviess, and Cashlyn Coleson.
Names he recognized—on the child’s maternal side. Interesting. “How is this relevant?”
“I don’t have a clue, but it matters. This little girl…she’s not just Timothy Grundenman’s daughter. She’s a Coleson, too. So how is this possible? There really is only one clear answer.”
And it complicated things. That kid—was Heather’s niece, too. Not just through her late sister’s husband, either. It made one thing clear. “Grundenman’s daughter is an Eastman baby. That ties Grundenman to what that bastard was doing around here, too. At least it’s another angle to go on.”
Everything they found lately was either connected to Colesons or what had been going on in Finley Creek for a very long time. He needed to figure out why. Maybe then he’d be able to find the who.
“She’s not an angle, Dom. She’s Hope and Heather’s niece and Zoey’s sister, and I’m terrified that she’s out there all alone. Someone has to help her. Somehow.”
Zoey was one of her closest friends. Of course…and that was a helpless little girl, of course Madison would hurt for her. “I’m never going to stop looking for her, Madison. I promise. I am going to do whatever I can to find her.”
Finding Grundenman had just moved to the very top of Dom’s list. Finding that kid and getting her back to family who would love and protect her far better than her own father apparently had.
“What about Hope and Heather—who is going to tell them? They deserve to know. Soon.”
He hesitated. “It’s an active investigation.”
“They are her family.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Heather’s family, not just Zoey’s. Heather and Hope’s family deserve to know, too. Don’t let…don’t let them keep secrets from Hope’s family. They deserve better than that.”
Well, hell. She wasn’t wrong. But… “We’re going to do this right. Take our time. We are not going to mess this up.”
What in the hell this meant for the investigation he didn’t know. But by connecting that kid to the Eastman investigation, where Heather’s sister Bonnie had almost been killed—that was an angle he could go in now. He just had questions.
Dr. Gregory Eastman had hired men to do his dirty work. He’d taken Zoey Daviess, the sister Zoey had raised, that sister’s identical twin that Bonnie had raised, and Bonnie herself.
That connected the Colesons to everything going on in this fucking town in yet another way.
All the strings kept leading in one direction now.
But what did it mean? And where in the hell was that little girl?
He was going to find her—and get her to the family who would actually give a damn about her. And not leave her out there with men who thought nothing of killing the innocent for their own greed.
Ten minutes after Dom had left her, someone knocked on the glass door of her lab. Madison jumped a good six hundred feet. Her heart stopped racing when she saw the woman standing there.
K.J.’s badge was practically bright and shiny and new.
The woman around Madison’s own age had just been promoted to detective recently, Madison thought.
Though she’d been doing the job of a detective for a while now.
She’d be good at it, too. Most people hadn’t even realized she wasn’t a detective already.
Madison reasonably trusted her. It was that whole “trust no one” vibe that coated the entire TSP now that had her doubting people she’d once considered her friends. “K.J., what can I help you with today?”
“I think I’m here to help you, actually.” K.J. dropped her bag on the table near the door where non-lab personal belongings were only allowed. “I was assigned to help you go through the paperwork found on the Guietyn Road robberies case.”
That case had been cold for four years, and everyone fully believed the suspect was dead now. Why would they waste K.J.’s time with that? “Why?”
“Wichita Falls thought someone needed to spend some time on that one, and then bring it to their lab. Another…waste of manpower, in my opinion. But what do I know?”
Madison agreed. That had happened a lot lately.
Wichita Falls was doing anything and everything they could to waste Finley Creek’s manpower—so that they could justify making cuts later.
Everyone had expected it. Wichita Falls—aka Rhonda Hamler—had it out for the Finley Creek post. Especially Major Crimes.
The people out of Wichita Falls had an agenda all their own. “So…where is the hot new guy who has been following you around?”
“Detective Trace is hopefully chasing squirrels up the next tree. Guy has a real stick up his ass. It’s a seriously nice ass, but…
so not my type.” K.J. smirked at the major crimes detective who had just walked in.
“Lila should go for it, though. If the guy isn’t dirty or anything. You want Trace, Li?”
Detective Dodson almost snarled. Interesting.
Lila Dodson was usually pretty quiet and laid back.
Madison didn’t think she’d ever seen the other woman snarl.
“Not in this lifetime. Guy has a serious attitude. I’m not sure how he ended up here in the first place.
He can so go back to where he came from. ”
Well, Madison knew the current Major Crimes theories. No one trusted this new guy who’d been brought in from the Austin post after what had happened to Brett Miller. That night.
All eyes were on Finley Creek now. And they all knew it.
Lila was a recent transfer in, too. Madison hadn’t forgotten that, even though she thought she could trust her enough.
That was the worst part—not knowing who was dirty or who had your back. Who you could count on. It tore everything apart.
Then again, maybe that was what Wichita Falls was after?
Destroy the Finley Creek TSP from within?
“What can I help you with, Lila?”
“I need the transcripts from…the Barratt/Grundenman case,” Lila said, quietly.
She was not a loud woman at all. She just sort of quietly did her job and went on.
She’d transferred to Major Crimes a year or so ago; Madison hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to get to know her well.
Lila and K.J. and Ashlie were friends, though.
They were always together. “I need you to create log-in credentials for me. Chief Marshall sent me to you.”
She held out the form needed. Madison checked it quickly—some evidence and procedural forms had been altered lately. The lab wasn’t taking any chances.
K.J. and Lila were talking while Madison dealt with creating the specific log-ins for Lila. Normally IT logins were the IT department’s domain, but this was one of the servers Madison ruled. Only a handful of people even knew it existed.
They were all trying to keep it that way.
Apparently, Lila was one of them. “Here. Are you looking for something specific?”
“Trying to track down Grundenman’s movements over the last four years.
And see who he came into contact with,” Lila said, as Ashlie came in.
She was filling in for Pete again tonight.
“Acardi asked me to trace Grundenman as much as I possibly could. To see if we can isolate where he’d take that little girl.
Acardi is focusing on Grundenman—I’m focusing on finding the kid.
He asked me to handle it personally. For… Heather and her family.”