“Surprisingly so,” Kiley said, her focus still on Lancaster as he talked with a white-suited tech. “Maybe he knows our lab techs have far more experience than most locals and wants the best.”
“Or he’s too tired to argue with you.”
“Could be,” she said as Lancaster disappeared into the fog near Firuzeh’s car.
Less than three hours ago Kiley was on the ground in those shadows fighting to keep Firuzeh alive. Trying to stop the bleeding, her hands saturated with the sticky liquid. She held them out and stared at her fingers, the soft mist dampening her skin. They still felt as if they were coated in blood. How long would it take to recover from the first ever homicide committed in her presence? Or did one ever recover from such a thing?
“It’ll get better,” Mack said softly. “But it’ll never go away completely.”
She lowered her hands and looked up at him. “My thoughts are that obvious?”
“I’ve been through it so I recognize the signs. You might want to consider counseling.”
“Have you ever gone?”
“I hear it helps.”
She was about to ask why he chose not to answer her question when Lancaster returned with the evidence bags and a chain-of-custody form requiring her signature.
He held the bags just out of reach and met her gaze. “Ten sharp, with everything minus the notepad, slugs, and casing, Agent Dawson. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
“You won’t have to.” She grabbed the bags and turned to leave. For some reason she couldn’t make her feet move. Trying to figure out her reluctance, she looked around and focused on the investigation instead of her emotions. “I don’t see any CCTV cameras here. Are there any in the area of the shooter’s hide?”
Lancaster sighed. “We haven’t gotten that far.”
She was disappointed no one had looked into possible videos yet. She would get on locating them right after she started extracting the phone data. She faced him. “Have you considered this murder might not have to do with my meeting with Firuzeh?”
“Of course.”
“So you’ll be requesting Firuzeh’s banking and credit card information. And checking her social media.”
“Idoknow how to run an investigation, Agent Dawson.” Lancaster curled his fingers into fists. “And I’d get a lot further if you’d stop second-guessing my every move and let me get to work. Remember,” he added before she could get out an apology. “Evidence back to me by ten.” He strode away.
“You trust him to do a good job?” Mack asked as he walked her to her car.
“Seems capable, doesn’t he?”
Mack nodded. “But you’ll still gather the information regardless?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s my girl.” Mack grinned. “You can leave the backpacks in my truck, and I’ll bring them in when we get to the office.”
She started to thank him, then remembered their earlier conversation and slid into her car. A takeout bag of Mexican food she’d scarfed down on the way to meet Firuzeh left the air saturated with a spicy aroma that turned her stomach.
She ignored it and shoved the key into the ignition. Mack stood watching until she got her car going before giving her a tight smile and getting in his truck. He could come across as gruff and pushy—a holdover from his days as an elite Army Night Stalker—when he wasn’t laying on the Southern charm and was often misunderstood, but he was a great guy. Three years older than Kiley, she thought of him as a big brother.
On the road, she slowed for him to catch up and merged onto the Beltway headed into D.C. A text-to-speech message from Sean came over her car’s speaker.
“You on your way back yet?”
“Few minutes out,”she replied and waited for him to explain why he questioned her location, but miles flew by without another text. He wouldn’t check on her unless he had something important to tell her. She pressed on the gas pedal and glanced back to be sure Mack kept pace all the way to their reserved parking spaces.
He met her at the door with the evidence bags and Kiley’s backpack.
She swiped her keycard down the wall-mounted reader. “Sean text you?”
He nodded and held the door open for her. “Something must be up.”
