“Then get the print and DNA samples to me as soon as you can, and I’ll start working on the items you brought in.” Sierra smiled.
“How long might it take?” Micha asked.
“I should have the evidence processed by the time you bring in the suspect samples. And I can handle the prints you provide right away. But you should know DNA will take a minimum of twenty-four hours to run.”
“That long?” Worry lifted Ava’s tone high as she expressed the same thoughts Micha was having.
“Sorry.” Sierra rested a hand on Ava’s arm. “I went through an ordeal like this too and completely understand how you feel. But we can’t speed DNA up any faster. In fact, you should be prepared for it to take a bit longer, though I assure you we will get it running as fast as is humanly possible.”
“Thank you.” Ava placed her hand on Sierra’s for a moment and shared a knowing look with her.
“In the meantime let me finish up this evidence receipt.” Sierra went back to her computer. “I’ll call you if I learn anything from the boot print that might help.”
“I should’ve mentioned that I questioned the possible suspects about boot brands they wear,” Ava said. “They gave me company names. Would it be helpful if I texted them to you?”
“Absolutely.” Sierra’s smile widened in earnest now. “It could make it faster to determine a match.”
Ava got out her phone. “Your number?”
Sierra provided it.
“Texting now,” Ava said.
Micha hadn’t been sure about Ava questioning the men about their boot choices. He’d feared she would slip up and alert them to their suspicions, but she’d done a good job of it. Now her quick thinking could be the key to figuring out which of the men—if any of them—had set the catapult that could’ve ended her life.
9
Nearing eleven, Ava was restless. Not sleepy in the least and no point in even trying. She would just toss and turn and likely raise her anxiety. Colin had gone out to put a tracker on Layne’s vehicle, and after coming back, he’d headed to one of the bedrooms to investigate the validity of the video from Layne. Micha sat next to her on the sofa, a laptop on his knees as he looked up Atlas Armory, and she was left to figure out what to do while she waited for him to finish his research.
Move. Just move.She got up and wandered around the apartment. The place wasn’t what she expected. She figured it would be like a hotel suite or a rental apartment, stark and sterile, but there were homey touches, like colorful pillows on the buttery-soft leather sofa and scenic coastal pictures on the wall. The kitchen was well stocked with cooking supplies, too.
She opened a tall cabinet near the living area and found toys and games for various ages. She could imagine being here with family and sitting at the round dining table, playing any one of these games. MaybeChutes and Ladderswith a young child. Her child.
Don’t even go there.
Thankfully Micha looked up at her to save her from her wayward thoughts.
“You see this?” She stepped back for him to see the games and toys. “Seems like odd gear for a protection team.”
“All the team members are married with kids, so maybe the families use this place too.”
“Could be.” She’d looked Gage up on the Blackwell tactical website and had seen his photo. Instead of thinking of the kids she’d have someday, she pictured him with a wife and children and was overwhelmed by the man’s generosity again. “I’d love to thank Gage in person, but if not, maybe on a video call.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged. If…” His words fell off.
She looked at the dark line of concern in his eyes, and her stomach roiled. “If my stalker doesn’t get to me or I’m not sent to prison, right? You just didn’t want to say it.”
“Yeah.”
She appreciated his honesty, but maybe he could learn to keep things like this to himself. Still, her brain might’ve gone there all on its own. She crossed the room and joined him on the sofa. “Do you have a gut feel for which of our suspects is the guilty party?”
“My gut says Buck, but the facts don’t really support one guy over the other right now.”
“I hope the evidence we turned in provides a lead.”
He didn’t answer right away, stowing his phone and shifting to face her. “I want the same thing, but having worked investigations for so many years and being disappointed a lot of the time, I’m not holding out hope.”
More brutal honesty. “But you didn’t have the Veritas Center experts helping you.”
