“Liv!” Miranda exclaimed in the courtyard of Traphagen Hall.
Miranda wrapped her arms around Olivia St. Martin, though she kept the hug short. Olivia didn’t like hugs and casual touches, something Miranda had never understood but respected. Olivia had always been a class act.
“You look good,” Olivia said as she tucked her chin-length bob behind her ear. “Considering you haven’t slept much,” she added with concern.
Miranda glanced over at Quinn and frowned. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Quinn didn’t have to say anything. I know you.” She touched Miranda’s arm lightly. “Are you doing okay? I know this is a really bad time for you.”
Miranda took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m okay. Really.” She glanced again at Quinn discreetly, but Olivia still noticed.
“You and Quinn patch things up?”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “But it’s a little better. He’s been a rock.” Quinn had always been solid. The realization that she’d started leaning on him again unnerved her. He hadn’t become her crutch by any stretch, but she found herself more comforted by his presence than angered.
When had that happened?
“How are you doing?” Miranda asked.
“I’m okay.”
“When’s the next parole hearing?”
A cloud passed over Olivia’s expression. “Three weeks.”
“That soon? It’s been less than three years since the last one!”
Olivia had testified several times against the parole of her sister’s killer. Wisely, no parole board had released the bastard. But every time she went back to California to face the vicious murderer and tell her story, it drained her. Miranda greatly admired her perseverance and considered her friend a role model.
If Olivia could sit in the same room with the man who raped and murdered her sister, certainly Miranda could face the Butcher when the police arrested him. But the thought of seeing her attacker in person, even behind bars, terrified her.
Quinn had been talking to the state lab director and brought him over. “Miranda, this is Dr. Eric Fields from the State Lab.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Ms. Moore. I’ve heard so much about you.” Dr. Fields was a small, wiry guy with silver-rimmed glasses. He looked barely old enough to shave.
Miranda took a half step back and glanced down. She didn’t like being a celebrity, particularly for the reason she was well known.
Olivia broke the awkward silence. “Dr. Fields has been really great in giving me full access, and he definitely has a clean, well-run lab. We’re still analyzing the evidence. I don’t know what will be useful in court yet, but we’re working on a possible fingerprint.”
“We have a partial from a locket of a previous victim,” Quinn said.
“Yes, I have that report to work with as well,” Olivia said. “I can stay as long as you need me. But I think this soil will give you the best lead.”
“Let’s talk to the professor,” Miranda said, and led the way to his office.
After introductions, Professor Austin looked at the soil and the report. Miranda waited, hardly breathing. Certainly this was it. He’d tell them exactly where the dirt, or clay, came from.
“It’s definitely not from Montana,” he said with certainty. “And not New Mexico or Arizona. This clay is too fine. Utah is my educated guess. Possibly western Colorado.”
Miranda bubbled with excitement. “This is great. We just need to match up one of the men from the files with recent travel to Utah or Colorado. Let’s go.”
Miranda was both excited and apprehensive. This was it! They had a real lead. Something tangible from her search for the shack where Rebecca had been held captive. Why was she so nervous?
“Before you go,” Olivia said. “Dr. Fields and I reexamined the trace evidence from the Croft murders. This same red clay was found on the mattress. A small quantity, but preliminary tests indicate an eighty-seven percent match. I’ve sent it to Quantico for further comparison, but that’s at least something solid to tie in with the Douglas homicide.”
“So we’re looking for someone who was in Utah or Colorado both recently and three years ago?” Miranda asked.
“Exactly,” Quinn said. “We need to get back to the office. If we can narrow the list down quickly, we can start the interviews today.”
Professor Austin rummaged through some papers on his desk. He pulled out a map of the United States. It amazed Miranda what he had at his fingertips-and that he could find anything in the mess.
“Let me mark out the region for you.” He picked up a red pen and outlined an area that included most of Utah and the northwestern portion of Colorado.
“Thank you, Professor,” Quinn said, taking the map.
“Glen. Glen’s my name.”
“Thank you, Glen. This will help immensely.” He folded and pocketed the map, then his cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said, and walked several feet away.
Miranda half listened to Olivia and Dr. Fields talking. She watched as Quinn’s face grew hard. He snapped shut his phone and caught her eye.
“Nick’s truck has been found,” he said, holding back emotion.
“And Nick?” But Miranda already knew the answer.
“He’s still missing.”