“Said spam risk. I blocked them after the second time. I thought I did the first time, too. But guess not.”
Madison would have asked questions, but the indicator on the machine to her left beeped.
It was the results she’d been waiting on. “Hang on.”
Miriam just nodded, then set up at her own station. She was phenomenal with biological samples, and they had plenty to work through.
They were still processing what had been found in the warehouse fire that Heather and Powell’s abductors had started to hide their OPJ operation. Madison was working through what she could as quickly and thoroughly as possible—they needed to know who exactly had been in that warehouse.
Firedidn’t destroy everything the way many people believed it did.
“You have a hit here, too, Mads.” Miriam grabbed the sheet off the printer. “Here.”
Madison read it. Compared it again.
“I need to talk to Dom, or…someone in Major Crimes.”
“Find something good?”
“Maybe. I just run the evidence. And let them figure out what to do with it next.”
“Truth. You just want to go see the hot guys in Major Crimes. I have seen those guys. I’m still recovering.” Miriam fannedherself for a moment. “Some of them—eye-watering. In a very good way. Can we say I want to be the future Missus Dominic Acardi, as soon as we can make it happen. Have any ideas about that? The way he growls—kind of sexy. Okay, alotsexy. You have to admit it.”
Well, yes. She had noticed a time or thousand before.
“Don’t look too closely at them. Every friend I have that has…except Charlotte and Hope…have gotten captured by the Major Crimes major pains. It’s like an epidemic or something. I suspect Hope will be next, though.” Miguel Rodriguez was making no secret of how he felt about Hope. Madison thought it was beautiful to even think about. “As soon as one of those beasts looks at you—it’s over. You’re toast. They capture you forever.”
“I can think of worse things. I can think of worse things. Too bad I have decided to avoid romance until I am thirty…. Of course, that was before I saw the guys here.”
“Six years is a long time to go. Dry spells are no fun. Then again…where have all the good guys gone?” Well, she could think of a handful that were still out there. But…Madison was holding off on romance until she was forty, so who was she to say? “I am going to go find someone in Major Crimes to give this to thempersonally.”
That was the only way to make sure it got into the right hands.
“Make a list of which hot guys are upstairs today. I will take a stroll through the bullpen on my lunch break. Maybe. If I don’t take a nap instead,” Miriam said, yawning. “I swear…if anyone prank calls me again, I’m going to let Hope hack them or something. Just for the hell of it.”
Well, Hope probably could. There was that. “I heard she was already getting bored…”
“That is a terrifying concept, Mads. A terrifying concept.”
“No kidding.”
Dom turnedfrom his desk and there she was. The bane of his existence. She was wearing her labcoat and her little wire-rimmed glasses that shot lust right through him every time. They made her eyes look big and soft and just…beautiful. “Madison.”
“Great. Of course it would beyouin here. Gun is still out with Powell, right?”
Gunnar had taken some time off to be with Powell, make sure she rested. Apparently, that woman had a bit of a problem sitting still. Dom had heard from Gunnar himself about an hour ago. He’d called Miguel to get an update about Heather earlier.
Miguel was staying close to the Colesons for the time being. “What do you need?”
“This. I am just the delivery girl. I wanted to make sure that someone in Major Crimes directly involved with the case got the report first. Only way to do that is to walk it up here into Crazyville.”
Madison was paranoid about evidence and reports. They had discussed the how and why of that paranoia before. Hell, it wasn’t paranoia. It was based in fact. Evidencehadgone missing, far too many times. “What did you find?”
“Warehouse fire. DNA of the man killed with a sharp object?—"
Dom nodded. He knew who she meant. There had been two male bodies found in the warehouse fire. Heather had killed one of them—with a box cutter she’d found while being dragged through that warehouse. She’d knocked the other one unconscious with a pipe, before sliding out a broken window and escaping. That man had succumbed to smoke inhalation fromthe fire started by his associates to hide the evidence of their drug trafficking activities.
They hadn’t identified all of them yet. But they would. Eventually.
