“Did Wade report this?”
“No. He wanted to let us look at it first.”
Morgan blew out a breath. Given the way the local authorities had contaminated the death scene, they would have done the same here. “Not much we can do without a forensics kit.”
Patrick held out his backpack and smiled. “You mean like this one?”
Her already-high opinion of him rose another few notches as he pulled out everything they’d need for latent prints, tape liftsand swabs for trace evidence, a UV/blacklight, Slim Jim kit, a mechanic’s inspection mirror, and an RF signal detector.
“How…?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Another uncle?”
Patrick’s grin widened.
“You have some very useful uncles,” she murmured, admiring the kit. It had everything a professional forensic investigator would use, and some gadgets that looked military grade.
“That I do.”
Two and a half hours later,Morgan pulled off her gloves. The only thing she’d found was a parking garage stub that had fallen under the seat—the same parking garage where she’d seen Varro talking to her supervisor, which confirmed her memory but offered little else. The rest was clean. Too clean. Like the actual crime scene, the car had been meticulously wiped.
“We’re dealing with a professional,” Morgan said unnecessarily as they walked back.
“Agreed. Can I ask you something?”
She tensed, snapping out of MDI mode and into whatever mode this was when she realized he was in touching distance. “Uh, sure.”
“What do you know about Joe Moretti?”
The question surprised her so much, she stopped in her tracks.
“Joe Moretti? He works at the ME’s office. Been there forever. Why?”
“Because he was supposed to get the call for that scene in Philly. Not you.”
She gaped at him. “How could you possibly know that?” she asked, then remembered that she wasn’t just working with Patrick Callaghan—she was seeing DeepTrace in action. Somehow, that made him evenmoreattractive.
“Why did they call you that night?” he pressed.
She thought back, sorting through memories and cases until she found the right day. “The dispatcher was new and had looked at the wrong schedule. She apologized for the mistake, but I told her it was fine.” A blessing, she’d thought at the time, because it got her out of an uncomfortable dinner party with her mother and her stepfather and some of her stepfather’s associates. “What’s this about?”
Patrick took a minute to answer, as if he was choosing his words carefully, then answered with a question of his own. “Would you say Moretti’s good at his job?”
Morgan barely withheld her snort. Joe was lazy, sloppy, and known for taking short cuts. “No. But he does have the highest close rate in the department. Again, I ask, why?”
Patrick’s eyes were practically glowing. “Would he have had the same issues with that scene as you?”
“No. He wouldn’t have even…” The words died out as the implications became clear. Patrick was suggesting that whatever she found at that scene would have been missed by Joe—either intentionally or because Joe was a slacker. There was just one problem with that theory.
“I didn’t find anything conclusively damning at that scene.” Only a hunch that had kept her from signing off until she could investigate further.
“No, but you were asking questions that might have led you places someone didn’t want you to go.”
She stopped when they reached the vehicles and turned to face him. “You think Varro was sent to my supervisor to get me taken off the case, a case I wasn’t supposed to work to begin with?”
“It tracks.”
“Well, mission accomplished,” she said raising her hands. “I’m here and off the case. Why would Varro follow me?”
“Plausible deniability for anyone back in the city.”