Murder of a Creped Suzette

“Yes. It seems that when the rent came due for the previous facility, Dante had the city hall custodians move everything to the place he owned. That must have been when the ones in the basement got all messed up, since he instructed them to reshuffle the boxes and leave the most recent ten years’ worth at the PD.” Wally scowled. “Of course, no one thought to mention any of this to me.”

“What a shock.” Skye snickered, then demanded, “Now, what about Owen?”

“He told me the same thing about his absence on Saturday afternoon and evening that he told Trixie.” Wally stopped for a grain truck turning into a field. “He ran into an old friend after his business meeting and they went into Joliet for a drink.”

“What was the name of the friend?” Skye asked. “Did that person confirm Owen’s story?”

“Owen wouldn’t identify his companion. He hemmed and hawed, and said he’d rather not involve anyone else.” Wally’s expression was rueful. “He did, however, give me permission to look at his truck so I could see that there was no damage from any accident.”

“Rats!” Skye stopped petting Toby. “Did you promise him that whatever he told you would stay between the two of you?”

“Yes, but I could tell he didn’t trust me.” Wally glowered. “And when I pressed him, he wouldn’t budge. That guy is more stubborn than ants at a picnic.”

“Double crap!”

“Furthermore, since everything that points to him as a suspect is circumstantial, I have no way to compel him to tell me.” Wally tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Plus, my hands are tied because I really don’t want to alert him to the fact that he might be a suspect.”

“Well, that stinks.” Skye scratched behind Toby’s ears, causing the little dog’s tail to thump like a metronome and his hind end to wiggle in ecstasy. “On another note, did you get my message about Suzette’s twin?”

“Yes.” Wally concentrated on navigating the T-bird around a curve. “Good work.”

“Thanks.” Skye basked in Wally’s praise. “Have you found out his name?”

“Not so far. Like everything else to do with this case, the light at the end of the tunnel always turns out to be glowing eyes with claws and teeth.” Wally blew out an irritated breath. “Discovering the brother’s identity is turning out to be harder than it should be.”

“Can’t you just get ahold of his birth certificate?” Skye asked.

“I put Quirk on that as soon as I got your message. But since we don’t know where Suzette and her twin were born, he hasn’t had any luck.”

“So, what is Quirk doing now?”

“He’s checking state by state”—Wally’s lips formed a thin line—“starting with Illinois and moving outward. So far, he hasn’t found any male with the last name of Neal who shares Suzette’s birthday.”

“Is there any other way to find Suzette’s twin?” Skye asked.

“The county crime scene techs have her laptop and are looking through her e-mail and files. And the Nashville police are talking to her friends and neighbors, so maybe they’ll come across someone who can help us identify her brother.” Wally shook his head. “They already searched her apartment and didn’t find anything helpful—no birth certificate or passport or personal correspondence.”

“So if there’s nothing on her computer and none of the people in Nashville know anything, what next?”

“If the name of her son isn’t in Paulette Neal’s file, I’ll try the federal databank.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a database of birth records of all fifty states.” Wally frowned. “Unfortunately, budget cuts, red tape, and not having the full name of the person for whom the information is being requested means there’d be a long wait for requests to be processed. It could be more than a month before they get back to us.”

“Oh.” Skye felt frustrated by yet another roadblock; then she had a thought. “Hey, I ran into Simon at the ATM this morning and he mentioned he thought Suzette looked familiar.”

“So?”

“So, if we ask him to think about it some more, maybe he’ll remember something.”

“I won’t hold my breath, but it’s worth a try,” Wally agreed. “I’ll have Martinez run a picture of Suzette over to Reid tomorrow.”

“Good.” Skye opened her mouth to tell Wally that Simon would be dog sitting for her, but decided later might be a better time to reveal that piece of information. Sometime when Wally was more relaxed.

“We need to get Owen’s DNA,” Wally said after a few minutes of silence. “But I don’t want to come right out and ask for it.”

“Because, as you said earlier, you don’t want him to know he’s a suspect?”

“Right.” Wally twitched his shoulders as if his neck were stiff.

“I really would like to be able to look him in the eye again, without having that nagging doubt in my mind.”

Wally passed a slow-moving combine, waving to the driver. “Too bad there’s no legal way to get his blood without his knowledge.”

“Yeah.” Skye stroked Toby, letting her thoughts wander ; then, as Wally guided the T-bird into the self-storage lot, she blurted, “The Red Cross.”

“What?”