nodded. “I sure hope that one fiber is there.”
“That’s not all I have up my sleeve, Toni.”
“What else?”
“We Luminoled that car—the trunk, the back seat, the carpets—all of it.”
Luminol was a chemical the police used to spray on suspicious areas in a crime scene, or somewhere they suspected bore a relationship to a crime—like a suspect’s car. Luminol attached itself to blood proteins, and when illuminated by the right kind of light, it fluoresced to reveal those blood proteins. That stuff would show blood proteins on a wall where the blood had been scrubbed and painted over with latex paint. It was a great forensic tool.
“So, you found something with the Luminol?”
Drew nodded. “There were some spots in the trunk, and we took samples. The lab analyzed all of it.”
“I hope it’s her blood.”
“Meanwhile, I didn’t give up on his credit card records.”
Drew had patience, too. He would never push a case to the D.A. until he thought he had it airtight. Early in his career, a young and overzealous Drew Smith had made that mistake and the killer had gotten off, never to be tried again. Drew had never forgotten the sting of double jeopardy, and he carried that sting into the diligence he brought to each case he handled.
So we knew her name was Lisa Wells. We knew who her mother was and how long Lisa had been missing. We knew where she had lived and with whom. We knew who we thought had killed her. We had gone from being completely mystified about the death of an anonymous woman whose remains were found in a grove of cottonwood trees, to knowing all these things about her—and we had made that jump to light-speed by televising a picture of the bust I had made from her skull. These were the kind of results I dreamed of on every case I worked.
“You found something in the credit card records.”
“Well, Toni, let’s not get ahead of my story.” He smiled mischievously and sipped his tea.
“So tell me,” I said.
He opened the file that had been sitting there all this time, then pulled out two photographs and handed one of them to me.
“You see this,” he said. “This is a microscopic photo of a fiber taken from the blanket we found wrapped around Lisa Wells’s remains.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a very distinctive fiber, I’m told.”
“So I heard.”
He smiled again and handed me the second photograph.
“This fiber is the same kind of photo of a fiber we took from the trunk of Johnny Rowell’s car.”
“They look similar to me and I’m not a fiber expert.”
“I’m told by someone who is a fiber expert that they are dead-bang duplicates of each other. In other words, they came from the same blanket.”
“Awesome!”
He chuckled with satisfaction.
“I’m not done yet.”
“What have you got now?”
“You know the Luminol?
“Yes…”
“You know the blood-protein spots we found?”
“Yes…”
“We found some spatters near the same spare-tire compartment, which is where we also found the fiber. It’s human blood, Lisa Wells’s blood type, and we’re testing it for DNA.”
“You got samples of her DNA from her bones.”
“Yep, it was still viable. It’ll be a while before we get the DNA back, but meanwhile we know it was human blood, and it was her type.”
“You’ve got all your bases covered, don’t you, Drew.”
“I try, Toni.”
“It’s all really good when you combine it with the fiber evidence.”
“I have one more trick up my sleeve.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I told you I didn’t give up on those credit card receipts.”
He handed me a photocopy. On the page was a copy of a gas card receipt.
“It’s from his credit card, and as you can see, the address of the truck stop on the receipt is…”
“Hutto, Texas.”
“Yeahhhh.” He grinned and nodded his head in total satisfaction.
“He was actually stupid enough to fill up in Hutto before he left?”
“Well, you’ve never met Johnny Rowell, Toni,
“That’s not all I have up my sleeve, Toni.”
“What else?”
“We Luminoled that car—the trunk, the back seat, the carpets—all of it.”
Luminol was a chemical the police used to spray on suspicious areas in a crime scene, or somewhere they suspected bore a relationship to a crime—like a suspect’s car. Luminol attached itself to blood proteins, and when illuminated by the right kind of light, it fluoresced to reveal those blood proteins. That stuff would show blood proteins on a wall where the blood had been scrubbed and painted over with latex paint. It was a great forensic tool.
“So, you found something with the Luminol?”
Drew nodded. “There were some spots in the trunk, and we took samples. The lab analyzed all of it.”
“I hope it’s her blood.”
“Meanwhile, I didn’t give up on his credit card records.”
Drew had patience, too. He would never push a case to the D.A. until he thought he had it airtight. Early in his career, a young and overzealous Drew Smith had made that mistake and the killer had gotten off, never to be tried again. Drew had never forgotten the sting of double jeopardy, and he carried that sting into the diligence he brought to each case he handled.
So we knew her name was Lisa Wells. We knew who her mother was and how long Lisa had been missing. We knew where she had lived and with whom. We knew who we thought had killed her. We had gone from being completely mystified about the death of an anonymous woman whose remains were found in a grove of cottonwood trees, to knowing all these things about her—and we had made that jump to light-speed by televising a picture of the bust I had made from her skull. These were the kind of results I dreamed of on every case I worked.
“You found something in the credit card records.”
“Well, Toni, let’s not get ahead of my story.” He smiled mischievously and sipped his tea.
“So tell me,” I said.
He opened the file that had been sitting there all this time, then pulled out two photographs and handed one of them to me.
“You see this,” he said. “This is a microscopic photo of a fiber taken from the blanket we found wrapped around Lisa Wells’s remains.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a very distinctive fiber, I’m told.”
“So I heard.”
He smiled again and handed me the second photograph.
“This fiber is the same kind of photo of a fiber we took from the trunk of Johnny Rowell’s car.”
“They look similar to me and I’m not a fiber expert.”
“I’m told by someone who is a fiber expert that they are dead-bang duplicates of each other. In other words, they came from the same blanket.”
“Awesome!”
He chuckled with satisfaction.
“I’m not done yet.”
“What have you got now?”
“You know the Luminol?
“Yes…”
“You know the blood-protein spots we found?”
“Yes…”
“We found some spatters near the same spare-tire compartment, which is where we also found the fiber. It’s human blood, Lisa Wells’s blood type, and we’re testing it for DNA.”
“You got samples of her DNA from her bones.”
“Yep, it was still viable. It’ll be a while before we get the DNA back, but meanwhile we know it was human blood, and it was her type.”
“You’ve got all your bases covered, don’t you, Drew.”
“I try, Toni.”
“It’s all really good when you combine it with the fiber evidence.”
“I have one more trick up my sleeve.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I told you I didn’t give up on those credit card receipts.”
He handed me a photocopy. On the page was a copy of a gas card receipt.
“It’s from his credit card, and as you can see, the address of the truck stop on the receipt is…”
“Hutto, Texas.”
“Yeahhhh.” He grinned and nodded his head in total satisfaction.
“He was actually stupid enough to fill up in Hutto before he left?”
“Well, you’ve never met Johnny Rowell, Toni,
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