Chapter 6
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Doreen paced in her kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and waited for the file to come in.
When it finally hit her in-box, she checked out how many pages it was.
It wasn’t too big, so she printed off the entire thing, to have it as a reference.
Then saving the digital copy, she sat down to read the paper copy.
A young man was found dead of a drug overdose, with drug paraphernalia beside him. That’s pretty clear-cut.
However, according to the autopsy report—Elizabeth had done the autopsy and had prepared the report—no track marks were found on his body nor other drugs in his system.
So, if this were a drug overdose, it was likely his first time doing drugs.
Now, some drugs were like that, Doreen had heard.
Most of the drug overdoses had traces of opioids, but, all too often now, fentanyl was the culprit.
So taking these drugs off the street was kind of a Russian roulette, and you just didn’t know from one day to the next if this batch would kill you or not.
Seems this young man had lost that gamble.
Or the drug had been administered by somebody else.
They were waiting on test results from forensics to see whether any fingerprints were on the syringe, needles, or packaging.
“That would make sense too,” she murmured to herself.
If there were prints, then it should be a clear-cut case. If somebody else’s prints were found, then the drug was administered to him. The fact that they had even sent it to forensics to see if there were fingerprints was good.
She frowned at that and immediately jotted down notes.
Fingerprints should have been obvious, but then she figured they were probably partial prints because the needles themselves weren’t very big.
Plus, being outside, under the underpass, most likely everything was mucked up.
So, it’s not even about wondering if there were fingerprints but whose fingerprints because there should have been something.
Frowning as she worked her way through the file, she cringed when Mack called.
“We’re not impressed.”
“I am so sorry,” she muttered.
After a moment of silence, he added, “Well, the good news is, … it’s not your fault. Somebody at Rosemoor wanted to cause us some distress.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a classic example of a grieving family member who just wants answers,” she pointed out quietly.
“Yes, but for the captain to be pressured into this? That says an awful lot.”
“You’re right about that,” she agreed. “I am so sorry because that’s not the relationship I want to have with your team.”
“No, it isn’t,” he declared. “People here work hard on these cases and don’t like the idea of your stepping in and getting the glory.”
“I don’t want the glory,” she stated immediately.
“I understand that,” he replied, “but once the media finds out …”
“I know. I know,” she muttered. “It’s a tough call.”
“But it shouldn’t be,” he muttered, the frustration evident in his tone. “Everybody here is quite capable, very well trained, and working hard.”
“And doing a great job,” she added. “It’s interesting about the fingerprints on the needle.”
“Of course,” he replied, “but we’re still waiting on forensics to get back to us.”
“And that is always the challenge with any of this,” she muttered, “the time frame.”
“The forensics unit is doing their thing, and we know for a fact that this guy could be long gone. We have no way of knowing whether it is even a guy or if this is literally just”—he hesitated—“I’m not minimizing the death, but it could be a drug overdose that was accidentally administered or even … ”
She frowned. “Right, or it could have been a drug overdose administered deliberately.”
“Right, by himself,” he pointed out. “Just because we don’t want to consider the fact that this may be a suicide, we have to be open to the fact that it could be.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And how tough would that be for the family?”
“We can’t protect the family from the truth, Doreen. And, with drugs, … it can often be just one shot, and they’re gone.”
“And there was no other evidence or track marks?”
“Nope, … none,” he confirmed. “So this could literally be the kid’s first time out the gate.”
“Yes, and that lends itself to the idea that it could have been done by someone else.”
“But, even then, it doesn’t mean that it was murder. If it was his first time and if he didn’t know how to do it, maybe his friend helped him,” he suggested. “He just never came back from the trip.”
“Good God,” she whispered, “the crazy webs we weave.”
“Exactly, and there is an awful lot of it going around.”
“Well, let me go through the rest of this file. … And I know you’ll say you have, but I’m just asking. Do we know if anybody in his family has a criminal record?”
“He has no priors. We haven’t gone deeper.”
She heard a couple more clicks, and then he groaned.
“What?” she asked.
“His stepbrother is in jail, and his stepfather is in jail.”
“Is in jail or was in jail?”
“I’m checking on dates of any releases and crimes,” he muttered. “I’ve got two files here. I’ll forward both, but you don’t always seem to understand where to draw the line.”
“Are you okay if I talk to the woman who called the mayor?” she asked, waiting for the two other files to come through.
“Birdie? I guess so. It’s best if you do since that’s probably the only way she’ll know that her wishes have been acted upon.”
At that, Doreen winced. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound nice, does it?”
“Nope, it sure doesn’t,” he stated, with a laugh, “but you do you.”
“I will. Honestly …”
“What?”
“I have to check first.”
“No, come on. Talk to me,” he said. “This is something I do need you to do. If anything is twigging, you need to speak up.”
“I think I recognize the victim’s name from Solomon’s files.”
“Oh no,” he muttered.
“I don’t know for sure though,” she added. “I’m accessing my digital filing system, and I have to pull up the summary to see.” She opened it up and clicked through, searching for the dead man’s name. “What’s the stepfather’s name?”
“Duke Hanson.”
She stated, “He’s in here.”
“Interesting,” he muttered. “You want to send me that file?”
“Yeah. And the stepbrother’s name?”
“Derrick Hanson.”
“Okay, this is weird. Both of them are here in Solomon’s files. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Neither did I,” he stated, clicking away. “You send me those files, and I’ll go through them.”
“Good enough,” she replied. “I’m happy to have something to offer. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”