I was exhausted from digging into the case all day with no progress. Molly and I had been working tirelessly, and I decided to order lunch for us.
"Any luck? I'm at a dead end," I said, frustration evident in my voice as I pushed a stack of papers aside.
"Not really, but come look at this." She slid the DNA analysis across the table. "Remember the black stains on the victim's clothes?"
"Yes…?"
"It's dioxide blood. But it's not hers. No genetic markers, nothing that matches any known database. Whoever it belongs to — they don't exist on paper."
I rubbed my temples, trying to fit it against everything else we had. "And still nothing to explain how they got close enough to leave it on her in the first place." I tapped the report. "No forced entry into her car, no defensive wounds on her body. She let them in, Molly. She didn't fight them. Whoever this is, she either knew them, or she wasn't afraid of them — not until it was too late."
Molly's jaw tightened. "That's what's been bothering me too. I pulled her purse again this morning. Wallet, phone, house keys — all there. Nothing missing, nothing disturbed." She looked up at me. "Lily, if this isn't robbery, and she wasn't forced, what did they even want with Maria?"
I didn't have an answer. That was the part that scared me most.
"Her body's been sent for further lab work," Molly added quietly. "Full autopsy's still pending — I want eyes on whatever's underneath before I commit to a report. It might tell us more than the blood does."
"Keep these findings confidential," I said. "Let me recheck the —"
"Howard, you're needed in the Director's office," Sergeant Joe called out, his voice cutting through the tension in the room.
❖
I went to Rogers' office. He was looking out the window, his silhouette framed against the evening light. His office was a perfect blend of old and modern decor, with antique bookcases lining one wall and sleek, modern technology adorning the other. A mahogany desk dominated the centre, covered in neatly organised files. My favourite paperweight, a golden retriever, sat proudly on his desk.
He didn't turn around straight away. "Kart's case sat on my desk for six months before we shelved it." A pause. "I signed off on that myself."
That was new. I hadn't known that part.
He finally faced me. "This one doesn't leave your hands. Not to anyone else, not to another team. Just you." His eyes held mine, searching for whether I understood the weight of it. "People are already asking questions we can't answer yet. I'd rather field this quietly than explain it upward later."
I understood then — this wasn't procedure. This was him keeping it off the record for as long as he could.
"Anything new," he said, "you bring it to me. Not a report. Me."
"Understood," I said, and meant it.
He held my gaze a moment longer, then gave a short nod — dismissal enough. I closed the door behind me and headed for my office, where I'd left Molly.
"As I was saying before we were interrupted, I want to go recheck the street cameras, maybe talk to the locals again. Something might've been overlooked," I said, my mind already racing with possibilities.
"Weren't they already checked thoroughly?" Molly asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, but you can never be too sure."
"Well, if you feel it's necessary, hit me up if anything comes up."
"Bet." I grabbed my jacket off the chair. "Oh — when I called in the lunch order, did you catch it in time?"
"Barely." Molly huffed. "I was on my way back with the blood test results when I walked straight into someone leaving the Director's office."
Something about the way she said it made my skin prickle. "Someone like who?"
"I don't even know how to describe him." She shook her head slowly. "He looked like a god. Physique, eyes — he looked like he didn't belong anywhere near this building.Honestly,I wasn't paying attention "
I didn't like that. Rogers didn't take unscheduled visitors, not without warning me first. "Did you get a name?"
"Sadly no. But he did help me pick up the papers."
I filed it away, the way I filed away everything that didn't quite fit — a feeling settling low in my gut that whoever that was, he had no business being in this building.
"Okay…," I paused to process what Molly had just said. "We will have dinner at my place and discuss what I will find," I said, grabbing my keys.
❖
The doorbell rang. It was Molly. The boys hadn't arrived from school yet.
"I thought you wouldn't make it," I laughed, opening the door wider.
"Oh please, Lil. When invited to dinner, I can't refuse." She smiled, stepping inside.
"We've got a few minutes of peace before Liam finds an excuse to hover around you," I joked, leading her to the kitchen.
"He doesn't hover. He just… asks a lot of questions about my job," Molly said, trying and failing to sound casual.
"That's Liam's version of hovering. He thinks you're brilliant, Molly. Genuinely. It's not nothing coming from him — he doesn't hand that out easily." I handed her a glass of wine.
"Huh." She seemed caught off guard, brushing a hand through her ombré curls. With her blue-grey eyes, dimples, and smooth brown skin, she was striking, but it was the sharpness behind her eyes that made people stay in a room with her. Whoever finally saw past the genius and the quirks to the person underneath would be lucky.
"What did you find?" Molly asked, settling into a chair at the kitchen island.
"I pulled the CCTV from the street where Maria's car was found."
"And?"
"Nothing. Eight hours of tape, and there's nothing there. No car slowing down, no one on foot near her before our witness stopped. Whatever got to her, it didn't walk past a single camera."
Molly frowned. "So the footage was a dead end."
"Not a dead end. Just the wrong door. I figured if the cameras didn't see anything, maybe someone on that block did — the people who work there every day, not passing through." I turned my glass slowly on the counter. "So I walked to the row of shops near the scene myself. Asked around."
"Wait." Molly straightened. "You mean off duty. On your own."
"On my own," I confirmed.
"Lily, that's not exactly protocol."
"I know what it is, Molly." I met her eyes, steady. "I haven't filed it. I'm not taking it to Rogers — not yet, maybe not at all if it goes nowhere. This stays between us until I have something I can actually stand behind."
"You're keeping this from Rogers." Molly's voice dropped, worrying threading through it. "Lily, if this comes out later and you didn't report it—"
"Then I'll answer when it happens. Right now Maria's case is going cold, and I've got a feeling that whatever's really going on here won't show up in a report anyway. Not until I understand it myself." I held her gaze, trying to make it land as certainty rather than recklessness.
Molly exhaled, but she didn't argue further. "Okay." Her voice steadied, though the worry hadn't left it. "So — the shops. Did you get anything?"
"One place. A tattoo shop, two doors down from where she was found. Something about it wouldn't let me walk past."
"And I said there was nothing there, but—oh, hello, Molly. Mother, what's the occasion?" Liam grinned as he entered, dropping his bag by the door.
"Hi, Liam. We were just finishing up. Dinner's ready when you two are," I said, giving Molly a smile as Lucas trailed in behind him, looking wrecked.
"How was school?"
"Ask Lucas. Mine was dead boring by comparison," Liam said, clearly enjoying himself.
"What happened, Lucas?" I asked, concerned.
"Got into it with Charles at practice. Wasn't planned, I swear." Guilt sat plainly on his face.
"Did he have it coming?"
"...Yeah."
"You already got punished at school — that's enough from me. You're smarter than this, so no more of it," I said, laughing despite myself as I ruffled his hair.
The evening went well. The boys traded school stories, and Molly kept Liam thoroughly out-argueing on some point he'd been arguing with his history teacher, Mr. Smith , which he took with far more good humour than I expected. I felt proud of this small, strange family I'd built, even without him in it. The thin ground we were standing on still worried me — but every ordinary evening like this one felt like something worth protecting.
After dinner I put the dishes away while the boys finished their homework. Molly and I moved to the living room, the easy quiet between us saying more than conversation would have. The room was cosy — family photos, overstuffed bookshelves, the low gold light of the fireplace.
"So — the tattoo shop. What's the plan?" Molly asked, breaking the quiet.
"First thing tomorrow morning. I want to see who's behind the counter before I decide whether it's worth pursuing."
"And if it's nothing?"
"Then it's nothing, and I've lost a morning. If it's something, I'll need your reading on whatever I bring back — quietly."
"You know I've got your back no matter what," Molly said, and she meant it; I could hear it in how flat and certain her voice went.
"I know. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Hey. We're a team. It's the job," she said, though the grin that followed didn't quite hide how much she meant the first part.
As the evening wound down, the boys wandered in to join us. Liam had that particular spark in his eye that meant trouble, or at least a request.
"Mother, can we watch something? Seeing as Molly's here."
"So.. what do you have in mind?" I asked, settling onto the couch between them.
"Something easy," Lucas said, the tightness from earlier finally gone from his face. "We've had enough drama for one day.
We settled on a comedy, and as the movie played, I felt a sense of contentment. Despite the challenges we faced, moments like these reminded me of what was truly important—family, friends, and the small joys that made life worth living.
As the credits rolled, I saw they were all sound asleep, lost in dreams untouched by the chaos I carried. In their peace, I saw everything I had to protect—and everything I stood to lose.