“You think this is Jackson?”
“His height, age markers and bearing match those of Jackson Simpson, yes. As I said, I was able to gather X-rays before your arrival. Our best shot of identifying him is to compare these teeth to your brother’s dental records. I should have confirmation within a couple of days.” Dr. Yarrow really did look sympathetic then. It wasn’t the automated response of a man who worked solely with the dead and their families armed with unending questions, a man just doing his job to move on to the next case. Real sympathy laced his tone. “I’m sorry, Ranger Simpson. I wish I had better news.”
Simpson scrubbed one hand down his face, his eyes glued to the bones spread in a broken puzzle across the table. “I’ve got to make a call. Excuse me.”
A tingling sensation built in Callen’s toes and fingers, similar to the lack of oxygen he’d felt while fighting for his life in the Virgin River, and all he could think to do was cut his attention to Maeve. To feel her grounding presence as his own griefcharged forward. A reminder that while he’d spent an entire year searching for some sign his sister was still alive, he’d gotten what he’d wanted in the end: to bring Lauren home. Callen cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t happen to have confirmation on the identity of the first set of remains, would you, Dr. Yarrow?”
“I do. It seems whoever tried to kill you and shot your partner here was telling the truth. Dental records were a one hundred percent match as the bones had been well taken care of. She is Lauren Russell.” The medical examiner’s lips pursed as he considered Maeve.
She hadn’t moved, didn’t even seem to breathe under his assessment.
“When will her remains be released?” Callen licked dry lips, dreading all the little conversations and details he’d have to discuss with his parents. “My family… They’re in town. They’ll want to take her home to Salt Lake, have an official funeral, say goodbye.”
The missing piece to their family had been recovered, but Callen didn’t feel any more whole. There were still too many questions unanswered. Too many possibilities of another threat. To him. To Maeve. The killer had accused Callen of standing in his way of what he wanted, but Callen had no intention of letting the bastard through.
Maeve reached for his hand, smoothing circles into the space between his thumb and index finger as he had the night she’d woken from her nightmare, and the muscles along his shoulders loosened. She’d done that. Chased back the tension he’d held on to for months in searching for Lauren, interviewing everyone who’d ever come in contact with his sister, going through her personal things and her apartment. She grounded him in a way no one else could, and he loved her for it.
Hell. Was still in love with her.
His body temperature hiked up a few more degrees as the truth settled in his gut. From the moment she’d set foot on that trail, he’d been drawn in. By her. The care she’d shown his parents, the dedication and loyalty she’d proven to have for Lauren, the personal sacrifice she’d made to come here to Zion and fix what had become broken. He had no reason to believe she’d want anything to do with him after this investigation concluded, but Callen wasn’t selfless enough to let her walk out of his life again without facing this familiar pull between them. He didn’t know what it would take, but he wasn’t willing to give up this time. Not after everything they’d been through.
“As much as I want to be able to tell you I can release your sister’s remains now, I understand there’s another missing young woman you’re searching for in connection to her death.” The ME rose onto his toes, then rocked back on his heels as though they were talking about the damn weather.
Maeve raised those dark eyes to the forensic pathologist, seemingly coming back into the moment. She moved to stand, and Callen was right there, his hands beneath one arm. “Her name is Iliana Meyer. She’s a forensic analyst out of Vegas. We believe she was abducted by the same person responsible for Lauren’s disappearance.”
“Right. Iliana Meyer. You mentioned her last time we talked, but I haven’t seen any updates from her investigation come through.” The medical examiner crossed toward his desk, pulling a pair of glasses from his lab coat front pocket and setting them on his nose. Glancing over the brim, he tapped in his password on one of the oldest desktop computers Callen had ever seen. “This is a current case Springdale PD is working, right? Who is the detective who asked you to consult?”
“I don’t remember his name.” Maeve’s hand clamped around his, her mouth flattening into a straight line. She wasn’t supposed to leave the hospital for a few more days. She’dmost likely overdone it and was paying the price every minute her stubbornness won. A thin film of sweat sheened along her temple. He had to get her back to the hospital. “Iliana’s vehicle was recovered last week, but there wasn’t any DNA or prints left in the car, from what I understand. Police have already released the scene, and without any significant leads, it’s possible Springdale PD has shuffled the case to the bottom of their priority list. The victims disappeared over a year apart. They might not have made the connection at all.”
“Oh, I imagine they did if they asked you to join the investigation. Let’s take a look.” Shaking his head, Dr. Yarrow pinched his eyebrows together as he read the screen from a standing position. “Looks like Detective Ike is the lead, but that’s odd. I don’t see the Taser you brought in to fingerprint cataloged in the evidence section of the file.”
Maeve shuffled away from her chair, heading for the door. “Ike. That’s right. I remember now. Things have been a bit fuzzy the past few days.”
“In case you haven’t heard, Agent Perry was shot four days ago.” Callen tightened his hold on Maeve’s hand, helping her toward the door. Her pulse pounded into the palm of his hand. She was overexerting herself, but he’d known trying to keep her from coming to the morgue would’ve only ended in her sneaking out of the hospital alone. Wounded. Vulnerable.
“Well, now that we suspect these newest remains don’t have anything to do with your investigation into your missing person, I’ll reach out to Captain Hendricks at Springdale PD and let him know.” The ME drew his glasses from his face, biting the end of one earpiece. “Can I also assume you’ll be filing the evidence with him once you’re recovered?”
Maeve’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course.”
“One more thing, Ms. Perry. I understand you’ve been through a trauma these past few days, so I don’t want you toworry about the fingerprint results you ran the other day.” Dr. Yarrow pointed the tip of his glasses at Maeve. “I took the liberty of forwarding them Springdale PD. In fact, both Detective Ike and the captain are very interested in discussing why you’re working the Iliana Meyer case.”
Maeve’s grip tightened on his hand, just slightly.
What the hell? Callen didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? Springdale PD invited her to consult because of her connection to the original investigation last year.”
“Did they? Because I reached out to the FBI’s Las Vegas office and spoke with the special agent in charge there.” Dr. Yarrow shifted his gaze to the woman at Callen’s side. “And he told me Maeve Perry is not one of their agents.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Too soon. This was all happening too soon.
Maeve couldn’t feel the warmth from Callen’s hand anymore, as though some part of her was already shutting down. She’d known the truth would come out. But she should’ve had more time. And she didn’t even blame Dr. Yarrow. He was protecting his case the best he knew how. By exposing her.
Callen slipped his hand from hers, leaving her to stand on her own two feet. “What the hell is he talking about? Why would the Vegas office say you’re not one of their agents?”
Her heart pounded hard. Too hard and too fast. To the point she wasn’t sure Callen couldn’t hear it from where he stood. Maeve tried to straighten, but the sutures made that impossible. “I can explain.”
Dark eyes leveled on her, and suddenly she was right back on the Kolob Arch trail, seeing him for the first time in over a year. Seeing the hatred and the anger and the blame in his gaze. His words barely reached over the buzz coming from the wall of refrigerators, from where she assumed Lauren’s remains—though stripped of anything needing to be preserved—waited to be taken home to Salt Lake. “What did you do?”
