The Missing by Chris Mooney Read Free Book Online

smelled of shampoo and some citrus-scented cologne – a welcome relief from the atrocious body odor that was still lining her nose and clothes.
    ‘It’s all over the news,’ he said as he followed her to the bench in the back corner where Erin Walsh, the head of the DNA unit, was set up. ‘Who’s handling the investigation?’
    ‘Mathew Banville.’
    ‘Then the girl’s in good hands,’ Leland said. ‘What about the Jane Doe you found underneath the porch?’
    ‘That made the news?’
    ‘They’re playing video footage of you helping her to the ambulance. They didn’t mention her name.’
    ‘We don’t know who she is – we don’t know anything.’
    Darby handed Erin four marked envelopes. ‘Blood from the kitchen doorway. Buccal swab for Jane Doe. These last two envelopes are the comparison samples, Carol Cranmore’s toothbrush and her comb. If you need me, I’ll be across the hall.’
    ‘Keep me updated on everything,’ Leland said.
    ‘I always do,’ Darby said and left Serology. She dropped off the envelope with the tan fiber to the Trace section and then went to assist Coop.
    Because the shirt was biologically contaminated with blood and other bodily fluids, Darby suited up. Next she put on a mask, safety goggles and neoprene gloves.
    The small, dark room was filled with the faint hum of the rain. The shirt had been placed inside a fume hood.
    ‘Take a look at this,’ Coop said, stepping away from the illuminated light magnifier.
    A white sliver marked by dry blood was caught in the fabric. Using a pair of tweezers, Darby freed the sliver and turned it over under the magnified light.
    ‘Looks like a paint chip. This patch here is probably rust.’
    Coop nodded. ‘The T-shirt is a mess,’ he said. ‘We’re going to be in here all day collecting samples.’
    Half an hour later, they had collected two more slivers.
    The secretary’s voice came over the speaker: ‘Darby, Mary Beth on line two.’
    Darby collected the glassine envelopes. ‘I’ll run these down to Pappy.’
    Mary Beth was seated in front of her computer, working the keyboard and mouse. Her blond hair was now a dark red.
    A black footwear impression was on the monitor. Darby could make out the grooves in the soles and the cuts and gouges from stepping on such things as tacks and nails and glass. All of these individual marks, along with gait characteristics, made a boot impression as unique as a person’s fingerprint.
    ‘When did you color your hair?’ Darby asked as she sat down.
    ‘Yesterday. I needed a change.’
    ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with Coop, would it?’
    ‘Why would you ask me that?’
    ‘Because you were eating lunch with us when he announced he had a thing for redheads.’
    ‘Bear with me for a moment. I’m almost done.’
    Darby leaned in closer. ‘Coop only dates women who can string no more than four words together at a time. It’s a policy with him.’
    Mary Beth pointed to the monitor. Inside a circle were lines drawn to resemble a mountain top and, below it, what appeared to be the letter R.
    ‘This is the manufacturer’s stamp,’ Mary Beth said. ‘Some companies stamp their name and logo into the soles of their footwear. I’m pretty sure this is the company logo for Ryzer Footwear.’
    I’ve never heard of them.’
    ‘But you have heard of Ryzer Gear.’
    ‘The ones that make those ridiculously expensive winter jackets?’
    ‘They’re the same company,’ Mary Beth said. ‘When Ryzer started out – this is going all the way back to the fifties, I think – they started out making boots for the military. Then they branched out into hiking boots. That’s all they did for a number of years. You could only buy them through their catalogue. The boots were very upscale and highly overpriced. During the eighties they were swallowed up by some global corporation, and Ryzer Footwear became Ryzer Gear. They still make hiking boots, but they also sell stuff like weatherproof coats,