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“Of Mr. and Mrs. Chi, yes, but not the young weres.” Burnett hesitated. “Definitely a were crime, a few bite marks but nothing distinguishable. So no evidence to help catch the killers. They are testing for DNA, but unless the killers were arrested by the FRU, that won’t help us.”
“So they just get away with murder?” Della snapped, and her frustration intensified not just from knowing the Chis, but from the fact that these killers were close to her parents’ home—close to her sister, who probably visited both the parks where the murders happened.
“Not if I can help it,” Burnett said. “The same examiner who did the Chis’ autopsy is doing the young weres’. She’s supposed to call when she’s finished.”
Leaning forward, Burnett cupped his knees in his palms. “Holiday told me she brought you the DA’s file. I still haven’t had the opportunity to read it. Did you find anything that might help us?”
Della’s heart raced at his question. She hated saying it aloud. “Help us, no. Hurt him, yes.” She took a deep breath. “My dad’s the one who called 911. The DA had made notes that his story changed, because now he claims he was unconscious the whole time.”
Burnett frowned. “At least his lawyer knows now.”
Chase leaned in. “It was a very traumatic experience. People block things out. I think it will be understandable to any judge that the situation could have affected his memory.”
Della’s emotions pushed back her ability to hear the positive. “But that’s not the picture they are going to paint. They’re going to say he killed his sister and then lost his mind.” Making it harder was that his own sister believed it.
Burnett seemed to read her mind, or at least the direction of her thoughts. “Holiday’s worried the ghost is—”
“No,” Della said. “I’m not letting Holiday send her away or chase her off.” She stared at Chase, praying he wouldn’t jump in and add fuel to the fire. He didn’t, but his gaze said he wanted to.
She swallowed the need to give in to tears and faced Burnett. “Have you gotten a judge on board yet?”
“Not yet,” Burnett said. “We’re still working on it. But giving up hope isn’t going to help.”
“I’m not giving up; I’m worried.”
“We’ve got the Douglas Stone lead. And now we have this cousin of Perry’s,” Chase said, as if to comfort her.
Della glanced at Burnett. “Has Sam given us anything?”
“I was pulled away to go to the murder scene. I’m letting him stew for a while.” Burnett cupped his hands and glanced down. She knew that look. He had something else to tell her and it probably wasn’t good.
“What else?” Her stomach muscles hardened to the point it hurt.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“I got a call from our guy in the DA’s office,” Burnett said. “They got the trial date. Two weeks.”
“We’ve got two weeks to prove him innocent?” Della’s voice shook. “We’ll never do that.”
“Yes, we will,” Chase said.
“Listen to him,” Burnett said. “All it takes is one lead.”
Burnett took out his phone to check the time. “Why don’t you two go over the vision? In about an hour…”—he glanced at Chase—“if you feel up to it, you two can come down and help me interrogate Sam.”
“I’m up to it,” Chase said. “Tomorrow, in addition to looking for Stone’s girlfriend, I’d also like to start revisiting the Douglas Stone suspects, concentrating on the ones I’ve already visited.”
“But I thought you didn’t get anything from them,” Burnett said.
“I didn’t, but as Pope pointed out, Stone said I was poking around in the wrong places.”
“Were any of these people you spoke to vampires or supernaturals?” Burnett asked.
“No.”
“Then how would Stone have known it was you asking questions?”
“I don’t know, but my guts say he did.”