Chapter 19
MIA
“Damn Katy, you look hot,” I whistle, leaning against one of the tables in the lab. The bullet in my pocket sits there like a cinderblock. “Hot date tonight?”
She blushes, which is easy to see in the unflattering fluorescent lighting. “Yes. One of the new cadets asked me out.”
“That’s great,” I smile encouragingly. “Keith is going to be devastated.”
Her brows shoot up at the mention of my partner’s name.
Katy has had a crush on Keith since the day we started at the precinct, and she’s not good at hiding it either.
Every time she’s on one of our cases, her hair is curled to perfection, and the glasses she normally wears are replaced with contacts.
The poor thing has no idea that he’d never be interested, which is why I hate what I’m about to do.
“Really? I had no idea he was even into me.”
I clamp down on the inside of my cheek. “Well,” I say slowly as she leans in closer, “he’d kill me if I said anything, but he did ask the other day if you were seeing anyone.”
A row of sparkling white teeth peek out from between her lips. “He did?”
I’m a terrible person.
“Yes,” I nod, rocking back and forth on the heels of my boots, “but it sounds like you’re seeing someone, so I don’t—”
“It’s just coffee,” she blurts out, interrupting me. “I’m just going out with him because it’s the third time he’s asked, but it’s not like it’s anything serious.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, wrapping my hand around the evidence bag in my pocket. “I don’t want to get his hopes up.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
She smiles brightly, looking like she’s about to jump out of her own skin in excitement—which feels like the perfect moment to drop the bag on the stainless-steel table in front of her.
The metal clicks softly against the surface, sounding like the thing that’s slowly chipping away at my morals.
“Great. Maybe if I help you with that, you can help me with this.”
Katy’s attention drops to the object, her brows furrowing.
“Is this from a case?” she asks.
“Sort of,” I begin, folding my arms casually. Keith thinks I’m getting us dinner, and instead I’m here risking my career and probably his. “I need a quick look, but it needs to be off the record.”
Her eyes flick back to mine. “Mia, I—”
“I know,” I say quickly. “It showed up in my mailbox last week anonymously, and I think it’s connected to the Russo case we were working on.”
“That’s a little strange, Mia. Shouldn’t you report it to the captain? Also, I thought that case was being passed along?”
“It is,” I say, bile clawing at the end of my esophagus. “And I will report it if I can prove it’s connected. If it is, I might be able to get the captain to give the case back to Keith and I.”
Another lie, but it makes her shoulders relax, which is a promising sign. Even if the bullet has Vince’s DNA on it, I can’t bring it to the captain. The precinct is crawling with rats and the only reason I’m even coming to Katy right now is that I’m desperate.
She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes darting between my face and the evidence bag. “This could get me fired.”
“Not if no one finds out,” I reason.
Her lips pull to one side in deep consideration. My stomach twists with every second of silence. I have to press my hands against the table to keep them from trembling.
“No one will find out, Katy. And if anything happens, I’ll take the blame. I promise this is more of a risk for me.”
Her lips smooth into a solid line as her shoulders sink.
“Fine. Five minutes,” she says, pulling on a fresh pair of latex gloves. “And if anyone asks, you were never here.”
“Already have an alibi.”
Katy rolls her eyes and pulls the bag toward her. She carefully opens the plastic and picks up the bullet with tweezers before dropping it onto a metal tray.
She hums as she pulls the object under a microscope. The metal glints as she rotates it, closely studying each groove and imperfection.
“Looks like a nine-millimeter,” she says after a moment. “I’d have to review my notes, but it’s compatible with the wound hole on your vic.”
“That’s a pretty common weapon. Doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“Right,” she says, adjusting the focus and leaning closer to the eyepiece. “There’s something else. Six lands, right twist.”
My hands slip against the table as my palms dampen with sweat. “What does that mean?”
Katy gently places the object down before pushing back from the table and heading toward her laptop. I follow closely behind, peering over her shoulder.
“It means it was fired from something with a distinct rifling pattern,” she says, hitting keys rapidly and navigating through some internal database.
“If we were doing this the right way, I’d have you confirm this with ballistics, but since I’m guessing that’s not an option, my best guess is a Beretta. Most likely a nine-two series.”
My heart rate slows down for what feels like the first time in days. Finally, something I can work off.
“That’s not all,” she says, spinning toward me and lowering her glasses. “There’s dried biological material on the bullet. Probably blood.”
Air rushes into my lungs. “Can you test it?”
“Now that’s going to be tricky to keep off the record.” She frowns.
I nod, shifting back and forth on my feet. My phone buzzes in my pocket. Probably Keith wondering where I am.
“Just a quick comparison,” I say, hoping she can sense the desperation pouring off me. “If you do this, then I’ll guarantee you a date with Keith. I’ll set it up and everything.”
Now that is going to be hard to pull off…and I might piss off my partner in the process.
I’m officially a terrible human being.
“I’m starting to think this is too good to be true,” she murmurs, reaching for another kit. “I can’t do a full analysis without logging it, but I should be able to compare the DNA manually and confirm if it’s a match.”
A weird combination of relief and possible indigestion from the burrito I wolfed down earlier swirls inside my gut. “That’s all I need.”
She huffs out a muddled sound of disbelief before turning back to the metal dish. She works quickly, swabbing the bullet's surface before transferring it to another dish. I’m so locked in, praying for a break, that I don’t realize how closely I’m hovering. But Katy doesn’t seem to mind.
If this bullet has Vince’s blood on it, I can start looking for the murder weapon and find his killer.
That should make me happy and the slightest bit hopeful for what’s to come next. But after being exposed to Vince’s world last night, all I feel is a foreboding sense of fear because I know the likelihood of his killer getting any real justice is slim.
At least that is until I met Leo.
I clench my hands at my sides and take a deep breath. I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him all afternoon.
Something shifted between us this morning, and it terrifies me.
A timer beeps, pulling me out of my stupor.
I push all those conflicting feelings to the back of my mind as Katy leans in, studying the results. Her brows furrow and then deepen as she pulls away.
“Well?” I ask.
She glances at me; worry carved into her delicate features. “The blood type lines up and the markers match. Of course, I’d need to do a full comparison to confirm, but I’m fairly certain it’s a match.”
That’s enough for me.
“So, it could be the bullet that killed him,” I say quietly, staring at the small object that tore through my brother and took his last breath.
“Yes.”
I wait for the anger to come, but all I feel is pure and undeniable determination.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and this time I reach for it, but then my hand brushes against another item I found last night. It’s a long shot, but it might be something.
“Would you be able to look at this too?,” I say, carefully pulling the matchbook out of my pocket and holding it between my two fingers. “It was with the bullet and could be another clue.”
“Why not? I’ve already broken enough rules today. Let’s pile it on, shall we?” she drawls sarcastically, crossing her arms. “I think I’m entitled to more than a date with your partner after this.”
I smile and nod my head. “Consider me in your debt.”
“That’s an understatement,” she points out and pulls on another fresh pair of gloves before plucking the item from my hands. “Don’t get your hopes up. Most of the time, these come back useless. And considering you’ve already contaminated it, I can assume there won’t be enough clean material.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, biting my bottom lip. “I figured.”
Katy doesn’t respond. She just goes to work swabbing the edges and doing a quick examination underneath the microscope.
“Alright,” she says, setting the sample aside. “I’ll run a quick screen, and if anything meaningful hits, it’ll flag it in the system eventually. If anyone asks, I’ll say I didn’t know the case was being transferred.”
“I appreciate it, Katy,” I say as she hands me the matchbook and the resealed evidence bag with the bullet. I slip both into my pocket.
“You better,” she smiles, glancing at me before sliding her glasses back on. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t get these things anonymously sent to you?”
I swallow hard, letting all my emotions weigh down my face. “I’m just trying to do my job.”
She nods, her eyes softening in a somber acknowledgment. “Get out of here before I change my mind and report you. I’ll let you know if anything turns up.”
I give her a real smile and turn on my heel before swiping my takeout bag. Before I can exit the door to the lab, she calls out, “Oh, and tell Keith my favorite food is Italian. I can’t wait for our date.”
I nod once, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling of guilt as I slip into the hallway.
Before getting too far, I pull out my phone to shoot Keith a text letting him know I’m on my way back, but instead I’m met with five missed calls and a very angry text message from a man I’ve purposefully given the contact name, The Devil.
The Devil: You’re starting to hurt my feelings, Emilia.
The Devil: Don’t forget who you have to come home to.
The Devil: Fine. You asked for it.