Again he groaned theatrically. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“There’s probably nothing there. I just want you to take a look.”
“Just looking could get me fired. You know how CPS is,” he whined. “They guard those records like they’re holy relics. They’re not to be tampered with.”
“Not by anyone less than a genius who won’t get caught. I need them from Tennessee, too.”
“Forget it!”
“I know you can do it,” she said, reaching across the table to pat his hand.
“If Child Protection finds out what I was doing, I could get into a lot of trouble.”
“I have every confidence in you, Harvey.”
He was viciously gnawing his lip, but she could see that he was enticed by the challenge it presented. “I’ll agree to try, that’s all. I’ll try. Also, something this delicate can’t be rushed.”
“I understand. Take your time. But hurry.” She downed her club soda and belched softly. “And Harvey, while you’re at it…”
He grimaced. “Uh-oh.”
“I want you to check on something else for me.”
* * *
“It’s Smilow.”
“You’ll have to speak up,” Steffi told him. “I’m on my cell.”
“So am I. A guy at SLED just called.”
“Good news?”
“For everybody except Dr. Ladd.”
“What? What? Tell me.”
“Remember the unidentified particle John Madison took off Pettijohn?”
“You told me about it.”
“Clove.”
“The spice?”
“When did you last see a spike of clove?”
“Easter. On my mother’s ham.”
“I saw some yesterday morning when I went to Alex Ladd’s house. There was a cut-glass bowl of fresh oranges on her entry table. They were spiked with cloves.”
“We’ve got her!”
“Not yet, but we’re getting closer.”
“What about the hair?”
“Human, not Pettijohn’s. But we don’t have one to compare it to.”