“Stop!” I shouted, freezing her hand just before it reached one of the glass tumblers I recogniz
ed from that Friday afternoon in my office.
Nikki stepped back, and I looked all around the kitchen for anything I could pick it out with. “Hurry up, it stinks!” She was holding her nose.
“Hang on.” I dashed back down the hall to our supply closet. A neglected box of medical gloves was in the back corner, and I shoved my hand inside, pulling one out and snapping it on.
Back in the break room, I reached into the dishwasher, carefully lifting the glass that had remnants of beige lip gloss—and hopefully a decent fingerprint—lightly by the edge.
“Cross your fingers,” I whispered, returning to my office.
Fingerprinting was as basic as addition in our line of work. I hoped to find something useable, and if I did, I hoped it led to answers. I took out the small kit I hadn’t touched in years and dipped the soft brush in the feathery, black powder. It was a pretty old-school technique, and not something I did very often. Dusting all around the edge, several smears readily appeared, but nothing distinct. I kept coating, but still nothing showed up. My chest sank. I was on the verge of quitting, when I took one more pass under the lip gloss smudge. Jackpot. A thumbprint stood out, and I almost shouted. Then I remembered Derek didn’t know I was working on this case, so I stood and crossed my office, shutting the door.
A clear piece of tape over the print, and in moments, I was attaching it to a blank sheet of printer paper. There it was, clear as day. Turning back to my computer, I took the sheet and fed it into our scanner. Once I had the image, all I had to do was submit it to Fieldprint and wait. I’d have the location of Star Brandon in hours. Less time if I was lucky. My chest tightened in anticipation. I couldn’t wait to get to the bottom of this.
Chapter 15 – One to Keep
Star Brandon was not a real name.
No surprises there, even Nikki called that one, but what did surprise me was the only record anybody had of her was as Toni Durango of Raleigh, North Carolina. I shook my head at the additional, obviously fake name, and wondered if the work address, The Skinniflute bar, was equally false.
It was clearly her photo, beside a two-year old arrest record for indecent exposure. Seemed Ms. Durango thought a thong bikini would be acceptable in Myrtle Beach, but the conservative residents thought otherwise. The charges had eventually been dropped, but it gave me a place to start. If that turned up nothing, Tom Brandon was my next search. He’d given her his name and called her, perhaps he was her boss.
My mind scrolled through the possibilities, the most pleasant of which was that I’d have an excuse to be in Elaine’s home state again. I heard Derek’s voice—he said my name loudly, but then it tapered off. Fine with me, I wanted to read every word of the Star/Toni report and note any clues it might give me to her current whereabouts.
The noises out in the hallway grew louder. I glanced at my closed door. A female voice was speaking rapidly, but I didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t Nikki. Star/Toni’s information was still up on my screen, as I slowly stood, finishing the page.
The voice tapered off as I opened my door. That’s when it sounded vaguely familiar. I was out in the hallway just in time to see the front glass doors closing and Derek standing at the entrance to his office looking shell-shocked. He quickly went after whoever that was, but when he went out, the foyer was empty. I followed him.
“Are you okay?” He didn’t even look at me. Without a word, he turned and went back into his office. “Derek. What happened?” My concern was growing by the second.
He walked straight to the windows and looked down, turning his head as if he were trying to see something. I looked down, too, but all I saw was the empty courtyard below. For several minutes he simply stood watching, not speaking. My brow creased as I studied his face—lined, dark brow furrowed, blue eyes full of pain.
“What happened?” I repeated.
Nikki stepped into the room and quickly crossed to him, touching his arm. Her voice was quiet, gentle. “Was that her?” she asked.
My mind flew through everything that just happened—everything I wasn’t paying attention to. Derek had said my name then his voice cut off. Several minutes passed, and I heard that female voice… I noticed Derek’s jaw clench, and he turned back to the desk, quickly sitting behind it. I looked at Nikki, but she shook her head.
“What her do you mean?” I asked.
“Melissa was just here.” My partner’s dead tone immediately caused me to sit.
“Melissa?” I repeated. “But… why?” Clearly it hadn’t gone well.
Elbows bent, Derek put his face in his hands, his fingers pushing back the dark hair. For several seconds he stayed that way, and I sat watching him, waiting. My eyes scanned his desk. A small pouch lay on top of some papers, otherwise, nothing unusual was in front of him.
Nikki’s voice was hesitant. “Is there anything I can do?” She carefully reached out and put her hand on his arm.
Dropping his hands, Derek cleared his throat, turned to his computer, and started typing. I watched in silence as he pulled up the state government site for Maryland and started scrolling.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I tried again.
I knew his longing for Melissa was as powerful as mine had been for Elaine. Now that I’d had my need met, I felt better about offering to help. I wasn’t walking around like a hollowed-out shell of a person anymore.
The telephone out front beeped and Nikki left the room. Her voice in the reception area echoed back to us, and Derek slowly turned to face me.
“He beat her.” His voice was quiet.