“You have the guts to go hit SID and see if Dorian has anything?” I asked.
“Sure, I’m in the mood for a good ass-kicking.”
“Maybe if we bring her some lunch…”
“Dorian doesn’t eat,” Bailey said.
But I did, and I was hungry. Two tacos and a quesadilla later, we were rolling into the parking lot of SID. We found Dorian staring into a microscope at her bench. When we got within ten feet, she looked up and grimaced.
“What?” she said.
Ordinarily, I’d start with a “Hey, how ya doin’?” but not with Dorian. I’d bet Dorian’s mother doesn’t do that with Dorian.
“Anything on anything?” I asked.
She jerked her head in the direction of her office and started walking. We followed. Her small, spartan office was decorated in early modern anal-retentive. Her desk was spotless, the in-box placed at precisely one inch from the edge on both sides, and of course empty. Dorian unlocked her computer and tapped a few keys. “Brian’s apartment: no evidence of struggle, hair consistent with Hayley’s was found in the bathroom and the bedroom, and prints that matched his and Hayley’s were found in all rooms. Couple of toothbrushes found in the bathroom. Preliminary tests indicate they were used by Brian and Hayley. I’ll have a final answer when we get back DNA. No clothing in the closets, and other than a used tube of toothpaste-which I haven’t printed yet-there were no other items in the bathroom or the medicine cabinet-”
“So Hayley stayed there with Brian.”
Dorian ignored me, tapped more keys, and squinted at the screen. “Next, Brian’s car. This is just the first look, so we’ll have more when I get time to finish. I found Brian’s hair and prints in the car, of course. Hayley’s hair and prints too. Possibly some fibers from the blouse she was found in as well. It was a lightweight knit that shed a fair amount, which is helpful. Now here’s the part I know you’re waiting for: I found a small smear of blood on the outside of the trunk. Seems to be a mix of Hayley’s and someone else’s.”
“Not Brian?” I asked.
“Not based on the profile I’ve got so far. When I get back the DNA, I’ll be able to tell you for sure, but at this moment, it looks like a third party’s blood.”
Bailey and I exchanged a long glance.
“Do you have a plan for the soil samples?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t ‘plan.’ I already sent ’em out to a guy who’s the guru on particulates.” Dorian looked up from her computer. “And I can tell you, he isn’t as accommodating as I am about your ‘need it now’ jazz.”
