A few minutes later he was calling to Vince and Reed.
Vince went to see what he was so excited about and came back into the house all smiles.
“Cinderfella has dropped a slipper for us.”
“You found a shoe?”
“Stepped into an especially soft spot in the mud, and the shoe stuck. Guess you put enough of a scare into him, he didn’t take the time to pick it up.”
“Sure it’s a he?”
He shrugged. “It’s a man’s running shoe, but not a very big one. A woman could have been wearing it.”
WHEN I told Frank this part of the story, he said, “If they can get DNA from the shoe, they’ll be able to answer that question.”
“How long will that take?” Ethan asked.
“If they hurry and bump it up to the top of the priority list, a few days. Otherwise, your guess is as good as mine-a few months to over a year.”
“Even then, that won’t necessarily solve the case,” I said. “DNA at the scene is just half of the equation. It has to match a sample taken from someone with a record.”
“Not even that simple,” Frank said. “It has to match a DNA sample taken from someone whose sample has been taken and processed and entered into the state or federal database.”
Ethan said, “I guess I always thought if you could get DNA, the case was solved.”
“DNA is a great form of evidence,” Frank said, “and it is important. But it isn’t the only kind of evidence the lab has to process, and it’s not always available at every crime scene.”
“But when you do have it…?”
“Ethan, the whole system is overloaded. There’s a backlog of convicts’ DNA, not just crime-scene DNA. There’s also a possibility that the killer has no record or isn’t in any DNA databases, in which case, the DNA will only be useful if some detective’s work finds a suspect.”
“And the testing still takes time then, I suppose.”
“Right. And if it doesn’t match, you’re back to square one. Have I mentioned the part about convincing a jury yet?”
By two-thirty we had all wound down from discussing the problems of the criminal justice system.
Altair chose the floor next to Frank’s side of the bed over his crate. I chose next to Frank in the bed over any other choice.
I was pleased to be there. Still, I lay awake.
Now that I wasn’t working on a story or coping with the events themselves, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I hadn’t liked Sheila Dolson. She was an attention-seeking phony. But that wasn’t grounds for murder.
I thought of how close I had come to seeing her killer. I kept wondering if my reluctance to get out of Hailey’s car and walk through the rain had cost Sheila Dolson her life. Or saved my own.
My restlessness woke Frank. He seemed to know what the problem was without my saying a word. He didn’t try to tell me not to worry, or to get me to talk about it. He pulled me closer to him and slowly stroked my back. Worked on me something like the ear rubs worked on Altair. I felt my whole body relax. Sometime just before dawn, we finally caught a little sleep.
CHAPTER 20
Tuesday, April 25
7:30 A.M.
HUNTINGTON BEACH
GRANDFATHER called, upset. Carrie and Genie helped take care of the boys while Mom talked to him.
Carrie gathered the recycling and took it out to the garage. She had just come back into the house and had stepped into the bathroom to wash her hands, when she heard Mom hang up the phone in Dad’s office, which was across the hall, its door not directly opposite, but six or seven feet farther down. Dad, who had just come downstairs, stepped into the office without seeing Carrie.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
“Sheila’s dead.”
There was a pause, then Mom said, “That doesn’t surprise you, does it, Roy?” Her voice was cold, the way it got when she was really angry.
“What makes you say something like that? Of course it surprises me.”
Carrie told herself that she should turn on the bathroom light and fan, flush a toilet, close the bathroom door-announce her presence in some way.
Instead, she kept the light off and closed the door all but a crack, making sure that no one would see her or her reflection in the big mirror over the sink.
“You seem to need to meet clients at some odd hours lately, Roy. You drove out late last night in the rain. What the hell was that about?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Now, tell me about Sheila.”
There was a long pause. “It’s quite horrible. She was shot to death.”
“Shot to death!”
Carrie had no idea who Sheila was. She prayed that Genie was handling everything okay with the boys and wouldn’t call for her.
“Did you know her well?” Mom asked.
“No, didn’t really know her at all. She was a little younger than me. I think she went looking for her birth parents and found out her dad was in prison for beating her mom. Sad story. Who killed her?”
“No one knows.” Mom’s voice was tense as she said, “Apparently a reporter showed up right after it happened.”
“A reporter? Anyone you know?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. We worked together at the Express.”
Carrie worked hard at not making any noise, but this revelation almost made her yelp. Mom had worked at a newspaper? That didn’t seem possible.
“And?” Dad said, impatient.
“Her name is Irene Kelly. And let me tell you, she’s a bitch on wheels.”
“What do you mean?”
After a brief hesitation, Mom said, “Why, just that she’s tough and sharp. She won’t let this go. She’ll run down every lead imaginable. Even if the police forget about this, she won’t. She’s a veteran reporter with lots of connections all over the city.”
Dad said, “Well, good. That’s good. Is Graydon shaken up? Maybe I should go over there.”
“Maybe,” Mom said. “By the way, I hear Kelly just did a big piece on missing children.”
After a pause, Dad said, “Really? I’ll have to take a look at it. Did he say anything about that?”
“Oh, not a word.”
Carrie heard her father picking up his keys-he’d walk by here any minute. She shut the door to the bathroom quietly and locked it. She turned on the light and was about to turn on the water when she heard her dad say, “Where are the kids? We should have shut the door.”
“They’re in the kitchen.”
“I’ll say good-bye to them, then.”
Carrie waited until their voices retreated, then quickly washed her hands and hurried toward the kitchen.
“Oh, there you are,” her dad said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I have to go into Las Piernas to see Grandfather.”
“Where were you?” her mother asked Carrie.
“I took the recycling out,” Carrie said.
“She was gone a loooong time,” Aaron said.
Carrie froze, but Genie said, “No she wasn’t, silly.” She smiled at their parents. “Aaron thinks any minute Carrie isn’t here to spoil him is a loooong time.” She mimicked him perfectly, making both Aaron and Troy laugh. Carrie smiled gratefully at her.
Her mother was still studying her, but that was interrupted by Troy accidentally knocking over a carton of milk. Carrie and Genie immediately set to work on cleaning up the mess while Mom and Dad soothed Troy.
“Sorry to leave you with all this chaos, honey,” Dad said to Mom. He watched her, then said, “Do you want to come with me?”
Mom seemed surprised. “Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
“But the kids…”
“We can bring them, too.”
“At a time like this?”