Shadows Fall (36 page)

His gloved hands skimmed the tabs until he got to the ‘M’ section and in a few more seconds, he held in his hand the file of one Brandon Scott Meyers.
Shit
. He’d believed in his instincts, but it still hadn’t seemed real until the evidence had been placed in front of him. “Got something,” he mumbled in Sonny’s direction, taking the file to the computer table and laying it open.

The first page had all of the pertinent data about Brandon and his medical history—all the same information they had gathered when the investigation began. Charlie snapped a picture of it with his phone. It wouldn’t be admissible in court, but it could be useful down the line. The next two pages were full of charts and graphs, color coded and labeled with various unintelligible letter combinations…unintelligible to Charlie at least. He might as well have been looking at Cuneiform tablets for all he understood of it, but he knew he was looking at some type of test results. He’d seen enough DNA matching and paternity tests coming up the ranks in the PD that he at least knew one when he saw it. However, these were more elaborate than any he’d ever come across.

Charlie handed Sonny his phone since he already had his camera app open. “Finish taking pictures of each of these pages, would ya? Karen might be able to interpret them for us, if she doesn’t have my balls for how I got them. I’m going to check the files for any more of our victims.”

“Sure thing,” Sonny answered, clicking away. “Hey, what’s gel el…electrophoresis?”

“Hell if I know. Do I look like Steven Hawking to you?” Charlie started in the spot where he had found the Meyers file and worked backward into the ‘L’s. He sucked in a breath when his fingertips landed on a tab labeled Mara Lewis. He yanked it out and moved on back to ‘H.’ Sure enough, Jade Huneycutt was there. Taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, Charlie hurriedly located Talika Ross and finally, Dallas Wade. “Jesus Christ, they’re all here.”

“Hmm?” Sonny asked distractedly as he tried to get the camera phone to focus on the printed sheets.

“All five vics. They all have files in here.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Nuh-uh.” Charlie brought them over so he could spread them out one by one. “Okay, new plan. We need to photograph all of these and head back to my place so we can print them out. Then we need to call Karen and get her onboard for a little extracurricular activity. I know not being able to find this guy sticks in her craw as much as it does ours.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to steal the damn files? We already broke in here…”

“I think I’d rather risk being here for the extra time it will take to photograph the pages than having the investigating officers show up and find out that all of the files pertaining to our vics are missing.”

“Good point. Although if SevenTek has anything to do with the deaths, they probably wouldn’t report them missing.”

“There’s always a chance that it’s just an employee, or even another test subject, and the powers-that-be aren’t even aware of it. So come on, let’s get these pictures and get the hell out of here.”

* * * *

Charlie stared down at the printed patient file copies that were spread out across his kitchen table. Sonny had put in a call to Karen, but it had gone straight to voicemail. It was late, but she could still be in the middle of an autopsy. Or, hell, maybe she had a date like any normal person who wasn’t breaking into suspicious laboratories on a Saturday night.

Saturday night… it was the one night of the week that Uptown Java was open until late—two a.m. if he remembered correctly. Titus would still be there, working his adorable little ass off. Charlie had to fight the urge to call the guy. Titus would be busy, and he should be too.

He glared at the file pages. He couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it. Sonny tossed something on the table in front of him, making him jump. It was a stack of photographs that he’d pulled from the files. “Photographs of each of the vics. These people were as thorough as the Special Victims squad is with rape victims. Photos from every imaginable angle.”

Picking up a facial close-up of Talika Ross, Charlie studied it. She was so beautiful, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been a model. However, that wasn’t the case. She was a recluse. No one knew her, and no one had even noticed she was gone. This was the first picture he’d seen of her alive and, just like Titus had said, the missing eye had been a bright, clear blue, in stark contrast with caramel color of the remaining one.

“Well I’ll be god-damned,” Charlie muttered. “He was right.”

“Huh?”

“Titus. When he came to the morgue, he saw the autopsy photos, he’d said that Talika Ross’s missing eye was blue—meaning she had het…heterochromia. Karen said that was one of the possible signs of chimerism.”

“We’re going with the psychic thing again?” Sonny asked tersely.

“Fuck yes, we are, because I’m finding evidence to back it up,” Charlie snapped. “I know you don’t trust Titus, but can’t you just trust me, DeRossi?”

Sonny glared hard, but then he broke eye contact and sighed. “Fine. But when the shit starts flying, I’m gonna step back and let you and psychic-boy be the human shields. Got it?”

Charlie huffed out a laugh, knowing Titus would hate that nickname. “Understood. Look at this,” he said, changing the subject back to the patient files. He held up the picture of Mara Lewis and pointed at her forehead. “You see, this is where she was scalped. This part of her hair, the part that was removed and never found—it’s white.”

Sliding his laptop over, Charlie brought up the web search that he’d done moments ago. “If you search for what causes sections of white hair in an individual with otherwise normal features, you get all kinds of genetic disorders like Waardenburg Syndrome, Vogt-Koyanagi-Harada Syndrome, a couple of different types of albinism and, you guessed it…”

“Chimerism?”

“Bingo, give the man a cookie. Same with that weird violet color of her eyes. It’s very rare to have that color naturally occur, and it’s often caused by a genetic defect.”

“So SevenTek chooses these people for their study because they have these genetic anomalies, some or all of which could be caused by or related to chimerism?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. The question is, if the victims were willing participants in the study, and SevenTek was getting exactly what they wanted from them, why kill them? Doesn’t that ruin the study?”

“Maybe once the study was finished, they decided to get rid of anything that could lead the authorities back to them?” Sonny offered.

“That’s a possibility, but it doesn’t make the most sense. It would seem that while these people were alive, they were a veritable wellspring of information to the scientists. I’m assuming the participants were getting paid, so it would’ve been a mutually beneficial relationship. No reason for the scientist to harm the patients, and no reason for the patients to roll on the scientists.

“We have to be missing something,” Charlie said, tapping his pen on the photograph now on the top of the pile, the one of Jade Huneycutt. “This one. This is the one that doesn’t fit.”

“How so? Sonny asked, scooting his chair closer to get a look at the photograph.

“She’s a minor. Her parents had to have found out about the study somehow and signed her up for it. Maybe they needed the money, maybe they genuinely wanted to further the research, but either way, they held out on us.

“We need to talk to the parents again, get them to give up SevenTek. They’ll be our key to proving a link between this case and the lab, since we can’t use our stolen information. Once we establish probable cause, we can get a search warrant and get our hands on these files legally.”

Sonny clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. “Sounds like a plan. Tomorrow, we’ll pay Mr. and Mrs. Huneycutt an unscheduled visit. Feels good to have an actual plan for once.”

“And I’m in such a good mood, I’m not even going to say ‘I told you so,’” Charlie said with an evil smirk. That will teach the guy to question his instincts.

Sonny grunted but said nothing.
Smart man
, Charlie thought. Covering his smug smile, he turned his attention back to the files on the table. Such elaborate documentation—based on his web searches he’d been able to identify at least some of the types of results he was looking at—from DNA sequencing to genome mapping, to elaborate diagrams of each subject’s body with notations about each of the mutations or anomalies. Even though he knew it probably wasn’t pertinent to the case, Charlie couldn’t help but wonder what they were hoping to accomplish from studying these people. Maybe they were curing diseases, or maybe they were trying to create some genetically engineered superhumans. Who the hell knew? Science was definitely not his strong suit. Yet, he was still curious.

His eyes roved over the data, and they landed on the cover pages from each file; the ones with each victim’s personal information and the details about what tests were being performed and when. They’d grouped those five sheets together so that they could cross-reference them with the information they already had, to make sure there was nothing falsified.

However, as he viewed the pages side by side, one tiny, easily missed detail stood out, calling out to him as if it had been written in red marker. He leaned in and read the same detail on each page.

“Oh,
shit!
”

Chapter Twenty-six

I yawned so wide that my jaw cracked audibly. It was a sure sign that my TMJ—a genetic gift from my mother—was acting up again. It had been a long day and an even longer evening. I’d been surprised to see Charlie bring Detective DeRossi in that afternoon, and even more surprised that the surly detective agreed to set foot in my shop. I knew what he thought of me.

It had been a pleasant surprise, though, to look over and catch Charlie watching me with that big, stupid grin on his face. I knew he was smitten. I knew, because I was too. It was the fact that he lost the silly smile when he turned back to his partner that brought me crashing back to reality.

Dating Charlie wouldn’t be as bad as dating a full closet case, but could I really handle never being able to meet his coworkers, or hold his hand as a cop car drove by? I wasn’t marching in parades or flying flags, but I’d always been true to myself. Though, if I
was
being true to myself, then I’d have to admit I felt more than a passing fancy for Charlie. I was well and truly infatuated.

As it was, I couldn’t wait to close up shop so that I could meet up with him. He’d texted me a couple of hours ago, saying that he was heading back to his place with Sonny so that they could go over their case files again. Once he ‘kicked DeRossi out on his ass’—his words, not mine—he wanted me to come over. I’ll be damned if my dick hadn’t jumped up and tried to text him back.

Alas, the lack of opposable thumbs was a problem, so I had to use my hands instead, confirming the date and adding a winky face—what a sap I was. After that, I’d quickly gotten sucked in to the rush of weekend partiers demanding coffee so they could sober up, only to go out and drink some more. It had been my idea to stay open late on Saturdays to capitalize on that particular market.

Still, that didn’t stop me from grumbling when I heard the bells on the door jingle while I was cleaning the Clover machine to put it away for the night. I wiped my hands on a rag as I turned to greet the customer. A tall, thin young man stepped up to the counter, offering me a tremulous smile.

“Thank
god
you’re still open. I just got off work and I have to be at my second job in an hour. I’m dying for coffee.”

I smiled, because I sure as hell knew that feeling. “You just made it. Closing in fifteen. What can I get for ya?”

“Just regular drip is fine. Large.”

This time his smile was genuine and relaxed. It transformed his face from nondescript to awkwardly cute—and familiar. “Oh, hey. David, right?”

He looked startled, eyeballing me with a wrinkled brow. “Yeah?”

I stuck out my hand for a shake, but the man looked at it like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I’m Titus. McGinty. You know, we met at the…um…the place.” Morgue,
morgue
. Why did it creep me out so much to say it?

David’s eyes widened with recognition, and he finally shook my hand. His smile came back, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Oh, right! Sorry, long day. You’re the psychic right?”

I glanced around, making sure no employees or customers were in earshot. I
so
did not want to have this conversation with Riot right now, especially not while he was so preoccupied with Chelsea’s supposed disappearance. Luckily Riot’s shift had just ended and Amanda was in the back cleaning up. It was my turn to close up. “Yep, that’s me. I…uh…don’t really tell people that, though.”

David nodded vigorously, and his cheeks pinked. “Of course, sorry.”

I stuck a large paper cup under the brewer and started the flow of coffee. “So what brings you out so late tonight? Um, did you just finish…” I trailed off, my brain bouncing off another word I didn’t really want to say in polite conversation.

“An autopsy?” David asked, his kind smile and downcast eyes letting me know that he understood my reticence. “No, I was doing pathology today. Helping Karen analyze samples,” he added when he noticed my blank look.