Brooklyn gaped at Kelsey. “From a fingerprint?”
Kelsey nodded. “Females have significantly higher ridge density. Meaning a finer ridge than males for both radial and ulnar areas. And eighteen-year-olds and younger have higher fingerprint RD than older males.”
Brooklyn shook her head. “I’ll pretend I know what that means.”
“As long as we do is all that matters,” Sierra said. “Something else that can help is that fingerprints contain certain amino acids, and levels of these acids are twice as high in the sweat of women as in that of men.”
“So this could be the missing finger from our victim?” Colin asked.
“Could be,” Kelsey said. “Something I can confirm as well.”
Brooklyn stared at the finger. “But can you even get a print from this shriveled finger?”
“Unclear right now.” Kelsey turned the finger to stare at it. “The fingertip is quite decomposed, desiccated. Plus, it’s shriveling and rigid. This reduces my chances of obtaining clear prints.”
“Chances,” Dev said. “So it is possible?”
“Yes,” Kelsey said. “I have a variety of methods I can use to try to rehydrate it.”
“And if anyone can get a print from it, it will be Kelsey.” Sierra beamed at her colleague. “She’s tops in her field.”
Kelsey’s face burned bright red as she smiled at Sierra. “I appreciate your confidence in me, and you know I’ll do my best.”
Colin was surprised to see the humility in these professionals who were at the top of their game. They weren’t anything like the cocky scientists he’d expected to encounter.
Sierra grabbed a tablet computer sitting at the end of the table. “Let’s get the finger booked into evidence, and then you can take it to your lab.”
“How long will it take to rehydrate?” Colin asked.
“Depends on how many methods I have to try.” Kelsey retrieved an evidence bag from under the counter and started noting details on the bag with a black marker. “Investigation number?”
Sierra rattled off a long number.
Kelsey recorded it on the bag, then deposited the finger inside. “I’ll get back to you the minute I have something or if I fail.”
“You won’t.” Brooklyn smiled.
Kelsey gave a sharp nod, then spun on her heels and exited the lab.
“Can you get that phone to Nick?” Blake asked. “Or do you want me to come back and deliver it?”
“We got it.” Sierra looked up, the swab in hand. “And then, I’ll get this DNA swab to Emory and let you all know what AFIS reveals on the prints if anything.”
“Then we’re off to the firearms lab.” Blake pointed at the door. “After you.”
They took the elevator down to the first floor and headed past a conference room with glass walls to the back of the building. Dev rushed ahead of them and stopped to peer into a long window.
“Eager much?” Colin laughed.
“Hey, if the door wasn’t locked I’d already be inside.” Dev laughed.
Colin glanced in the window, where display cases were filled with copious weapons and ammunition, all with neat labels below.
“Kind of like Kelsey’s bone display, but this is much easier to look at,” Brooklyn said.
Until you thought about what guns could be used for and that this lab existed to find murderers.
Like the other spaces they’d visited, long tables sat in the middle of the room, but no one was visible.
