Chapter 16 #2
Funny, it didn’t faze Addison one bit—not that much did.
“Negative, my friend. I happen to know that Chloe brought you two Boston cream donuts from Sweetie Pies, and I know this because that’s what she does every single time she comes to visit, without fail.
Now, I can come back there and show you the evidence, if you like, or we can just agree that you and I are, in fact, even right now because I hooked you up with your supplier. It’s your call.”
Riordan stared her down for a minute before scaling back on his frown, although he wasn’t about to let go of his grumpy bluster entirely.
“Goddamn detectives,” he muttered. “Now go do whatever it is you’re doing before I decide to argue with you.
And Chloe? Thanks for the thing. Not an admission of guilt,” he told Addison, who held up her hands in pretend surrender.
“Of course not,” Addison said, guiding Chloe and Tyler down the hallway toward the security check-in. Once they’d hit the bottom of the stairs leading to the Intelligence Unit’s office, Addison quietly asked, “How’s Esme?”
“Still a little chilly. Probably more scared than she’s letting on. Other than that…” Chloe tilted a hand from side to side in a “so-so” motion. “How’s the investigation?”
“No news on the DNA yet.” Addison gestured in the direction of the office. “Come on, let’s get you two looped in on the rest.”
They headed past the double doors leading into the Intelligence office.
Maxwell and Garza sat at their adjacent desks, murmuring back and forth about something on each of their desktop monitors.
Capelli, Sinclair, and Xander examined something on one of Capelli’s screens, everyone looking up as Addison led Tyler and Chloe all the way into the room.
“Gates. Chloe.” Sinclair lifted his chin once in greeting. “Thanks for coming in. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, if you’re okay to jump right in?”
“Of course,” Tyler said, and Chloe’s nod echoed the sentiment.
“Let’s start with the Brinkman murder.” Sinclair turned to the monitors on the array over Capelli’s desk, and Chloe steeled herself with a deep breath, relief splashing through her when the images that popped up were of Sal Brinkman and Leo Navarro, both very much alive.
“We dug back into the evidence, and unfortunately, it’s slim. We still haven’t been able to prove a definitive connection between Brinkman and Navarro, either business or personal,” Sinclair started, and Capelli took his lead.
“Everything Navarro told Maxwell and Hale checks out. The two men did do business in the same circles, but mutual contacts are as close as we can get. I checked everything going back to last year, and phone records and online activity both come back clean. No direct calls, no texts, no emails between them.”
Chloe shook her head, confused. “None at all?”
“They probably used burner phones to communicate,” Garza said, his dark stare as serious as his voice. “But without numbers we can trace back to either of them…”
“Right. Dead end,” Chloe said. Damn it!
Tyler spoke up. “How about the knife? Anything there?”
Addison’s expression said they were at least getting warmer.
“Sort of.” She waited for Capelli to pull up an image of both the sketch Camila had made per Esme’s description and a photograph of a knife bearing very strong resemblance to it.
“We found a match. This beauty is a hand-crafted seven-inch dagger with a custom-crafted pearl handle. The blade is folded Damascus steel with a core of VG-10—not your average weapon—and the handle is made of exhibition-grade Australian silver-lip pearl.”
“I’m guessing you don’t just find those at your local superstore,” Tyler said, and Maxwell shook his head.
“Lucky for us, it’s one of a kind. Literally. This one was made as a collector’s piece by a well-respected bladesmith in upstate New York, about four years ago. But it sold at a private auction right here in Remington last winter for the bargain price of sixty thousand bucks.”
“Whoa,” Tyler said, at the same time Chloe blurted, “To who?”
“The auction company refused to disclose the name of the buyer.” Addison made a sound that matched Chloe’s irritation. “According to them, they have—she paused to adjust her tone to something prim and snobby—“discerning clientele who expect a high level of privacy, darling.”
“In other words, they’re catering to a bunch of rich people who don’t want anyone to know how much green they dropped on a potential murder weapon,” Chloe said.
Xander lifted a shoulder. “They’re probably trying to avoid the lawsuit that goes with disclosure.
We’re working on a subpoena to change their minds.
In the meantime, the medical examiner said Brinkman’s wounds are definitely consistent with a dagger of that size.
With that, plus Esme’s ID, there’s no way that wasn’t the murder weapon. ”
“But the only way to connect it to Navarro right now is Esme,” Chloe said, dread squeezing her stomach.
Addison nodded. “Until the subpoena comes through, yes. Even then, it didn’t turn up in the search. The best we’d be able to do is prove he bought the knife, unless Esme testified that she saw him use it to kill Brinkman.”
“Or unless we found it,” Capelli put in, his face turning apologetic as he looked at Chloe. “But the chance it’s not at the bottom of the Red Run is statistically…uh, small.”
The river bordering the entire east side of North Point was rivaled only by the Hudson in New York. Anything in there, whether purposely tossed or fallen overboard, was lost forever. “So, even if there’s proof Navarro bought the dagger, it’s still not proof he committed the murder.”
“He could, and probably will, claim that it was lost or stolen,” Garza reasoned.
“Without us finding it in his possession, Tara can’t prove that it wasn’t.
But still, if there is proof Navarro bought the dagger last year, and Esme comes forward to ID it and him?
That might be enough for an arrest warrant. ”
“On its own, it’s a gamble,” Sinclair said.
“I’d be a hell of a lot happier if we had the damn thing.
But if the forensic evidence in the DNA kit survived the fire, and we had proof of Navarro’s ownership, plus Esme’s testimony that she saw Navarro use the knife to kill Brinkman?
That would definitely be enough for Tara to bring him in. ”
Chloe couldn’t have asked for a much better segue. “Any word on the analysis at all?”
“On viability? No. But we’re getting closer.
” Maxwell nodded, his eyes flicking to the new image on the screen, which looked like an inventory sheet of some kind.
“There’s a lot of protocol involved, obviously, and Tara didn’t want to take any risks, so she had the kit sent to the FBI’s DNA lab in Charlotte. ”
“Wow.” Chloe’s brows lifted. “Guess I don’t have to ask if it’s secure.”
“You do not,” Addison said. “That sucker is locked down tight, along with twelve other DNA kits from the fire at Dynamics. Following the chain of custody to get them there properly was a hellscape, but it’s good that the RPD was so careful about it, because Navarro’s lawyer already moved to have the evidence dismissed. ”
Panic snapped in Chloe’s veins, making her knees want to buckle. “What?” she barked, but Addison was already shaking her head.
“The judge denied it as soon as Tara presented the evidence that everything had been done by the book. Three other defense attorneys have made the same motion so far on behalf of their clients whose kits were moved. Tara said she was expecting it, especially from Navarro’s lawyer.”
Chloe fought a shudder. She’d never met Phil Constantine, but she’d heard enough from Tara and Addison to know the guy was the highest caliber of gross. “Okay. So, the DNA is secure, and the evidence is still admissible, if it’s viable. What about the arson investigation?”
“You want to take this one?” Sinclair asked Tyler, who didn’t so much as blink before nodding.
“We can start with what we know. Obviously, the fire was pretty catastrophic. Given the extent of the damage and the burn patterns, the lab on the second floor was definitely the point of origin.”
“How much damage are we talking about, exactly?” Chloe asked, and Tyler exchanged a nano-glance with Capelli that had the tech expert’s index finger hovering over his mouse, just shy of the button.
“Just remember, sometimes things that look ruined—”
“—actually aren’t. I remember,” she promised.
“Okay,” Tyler said with a nod. Chloe took a steadying breath as Capelli began to scroll through the images of the fire scene, but her heart was in her windpipe by the third one.
What had once been a state-of-the-art science lab had been reduced to slide after slide of warped metal, smashed glass, and heat-damaged debris.
Holy shit, how could anything possibly be salvageable?
She couldn’t even recognize what most of the things in these photos might have once been.
And Tyler and Ryan had been inside the place? While it burned?
From the corner of her eye, Chloe caught sight of Tyler, perfectly fine and right there beside her, his words echoing back in her head. They gave her half a breath, and she repeated them to herself a few more times as she regained her footing.
“That is a lot of damage,” she finally managed to say, and even Sinclair nodded in agreement.
“And Nat’s team confirmed it was definitely arson?”
“Yes,” Tyler said. “There were large traces of ethanol all over the lab, the second floor, and in the filtration system. Whoever did this clearly used it as an accelerant, then set the place on fire. He didn’t even bother trying to cover it up or make it look like an accident, probably banking on the fire destroying any evidence they might leave behind. ”
“Where was Leo Navarro that night?” Chloe asked, diving right past pleasantries.