15

Later that afternoon, Emily made a trip to the sheriff’s office to talk with Nick about Dr. Payton’s findings. But Nick had some findings of his own to announce.

“The lab called this morning with the Parkman DNA comparison study,” said Nick.

“That was fast. And? What are we looking at?”

“They’re a match. Sandi’s DNA contain the same twenty-one DNA loci points as her mother’s,” said Nick, running his hand over the edge of Dr. Parkman’s oversized poster of skeletal remains.

“Oh Nick. You were right.” But she was devastated for the Parkman family. And a bit regretful that she had doubted Nick’s instincts.

“With Dr. Payton’s and your assessment of how she died, we’re conclusively looking at a homicide case, and we can officially announce it.”

“Have you contacted Mrs. Parkman?”

“No, not yet. I’m not sure what to say. How do I tell her that the mystery of her daughter’s disappearance is unhappily over?” Nick stretched his hands across his forehead as if he were trying to press out all his stress to the edges of his face. People failed to acknowledge that the discovery of hard truth was actually the primary cause of wrinkles.

“I don’t think it’s going to be big news to her. She can bury her daughter in peace now.”

Nick didn’t respond, his eyes glazing over her shoulder. Emily knew guilt and regret were rearing their ugly heads.

“I’ll go with you. We’ll tag-team this, like we did with the Dobsons,” Emily offered.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll set up a time to talk with her.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe her stepfather made the videos? I mean, since no one claimed they saw them or knew about the source?” It might be a stretch, but they had to consider every strange, offbeat theory.

Nick shrugged. “She had a restraining order against him. He couldn’t go near her.”

“Right. But people don’t always obey those orders. Did you ever see him with Sandi after he got out?”

Nick thought about it for a moment. “I saw him waiting outside school a few times.”

“Maybe it’s worth looking into?”

It was sickening to think about, but there might be a way to connect the dots.

“Maybe.” His voice and attention drifted.

“Nick, do you think you ought to get yourself some protection?” said Emily.

“I carry a badge and a gun.”

“No, I mean legal protection.”

“Why?”

How could he not see it? “You were the last person to see Sandi before she died.”

“That we know of. Other than the killer.”

“Yes. And now that this is a murder case, you’re going to be questioned again.”

“How is that going to look when I lawyer up at the same time we announce Sandi Parkman’s homicide?”

“I’m just saying, get on the offensive.”

“They have my statement on record.”

“But you have no alibi.”

“I have an alibi. I was home.”

“Alone. No one saw you.” Emily didn’t mean to come off so accusatory. “I understand this is awkward and awful. But if you’re innocent—”

“I. Am. Innocent.” He punctuated each word.

“James claimed he was home all afternoon, too. But no one actually saw him at home. You see? It just doesn’t look good for your defense.” Emily hadn’t meant to talk in hypotheticals. It was a clinical habit. Instead, she kept putting her foot in her mouth. “A good defense attorney will make sure the world knows that.”

“You already have me convicted.”

“No, Nick, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m thinking proactively here. Once you release the manner of death, the media will bite. It’s a juicy news story. And just like the Dobson case, it will reach far beyond the rural borders of Freeport County and seep into the media feeds all across the state. And it won’t take but a blink of the eye for fingers to come pointing at you. ‘Freeport County Sheriff Larson a Teen Sex Offender and Killer?’ I can hear the thousands of mouse clicks all over the state of Michigan. Not something you want to get back to the state police post. They’ll send in their own investigators and you’ll be taken off the case and detained.”

“Okay, settle down. I get your point,” said Nick.

But she wasn’t sure Nick would do anything about it, and it troubled her. She had seen her father become the victim of a witch hunt during a seedy death investigation of a domestic violence homicide that had left scars on him and his reputation for years.

“Think of it like hiring a publicist who’s going to extinguish all the fiery darts so you can concentrate on getting this case solved.”

“They’ll take me off the case,” Nick admitted, taking a seat behind his desk. His brow crinkled. Emily drew in a breath and calmed her tone. That was it. He felt solely responsible for finding Sandi’s killer.

“You have nothing to hide. And soon, this will pass. I promise.”

“It will pass even quicker once we find the killer.”

“We?”

“You’re in it now, Em. I need you.”

“You don’t need me for this. You’ll probably get a slam dunk with the stepdad. He’s got guilt written all over him. There’s really nothing more I can do as acting medical examiner on this case, but I would advise that the ME’s office hold on to Sandi’s remains for a while.”

“What reason can I give Mrs. Parkman as to why she still can’t have her daughter back?” Nick had that pinched tone to his voice that conveyed he was trying not to get upset.

“We may get a request for another forensic examination. Either the prosecutor, defense, or both. We wouldn’t want the Parkmans deciding to cremate and then lose all our evidence.”

“Always thinking ahead.”

“Saving you grief you didn’t know you had coming,” Emily teased. The mood lightened.

“I know this sounds weird, but I don’t want to be alone tonight,” said Nick. Her eyes flitted to his with a startled expression.

“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that since I have to break the news in the morning, I could use the company to help me process all this.”

“I wish I could, Nick,” Emily said, truly feeling for him. “But I promised Dr. Payton I’d have dinner with him later.”

“Hey, I thought you weren’t into dating right now.”

“It’s not a date.”

“He drove all the way up here. It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date,” she insisted again.

“Sounds like a date.”

“It’s dinner at the country club. Nothing romantic about that.”

“Did he make a reservation?” Nick questioned with a wide-eyed look.

“I assume so.”

“Then it’s totally a date.” There was triumph in his tone.

Emily sighed. “Semantics aside, let’s catch up first thing in the morning to go over your statement before you release it?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I know you’re super busy.”

Emily shrugged. So this is how you’re going to play it? Fine. “And the attorney?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Nick’s face went a little gray. She had seen that sick look on her father’s face before, too, when he was talking to his attorney over the phone. It was sinking in with Nick how serious this could be. Emily hated that he was going to be thrown to the dogs tomorrow.

Emily took the poster-board images of Sandi’s remains and sent Nick a little wave as she headed out of his office and through the sheriff’s department. A chilly breeze cut through her thin shirt again, reminding Emily that her winter wardrobe was still in Chicago at the brownstone Brandon had bought for them. On her way home, she would stop at Jo’s to borrow another dress for dinner tonight.

Date. Pleeease. It’s not a date.

That little ping zinged up her spine again. Is it?