Page 25 of What Comes Around

Detective Holt in Berkeley had told me once that if I ever learned anything, no matter how small, I should tell him. Something had happened again with my father’s secretary. That was enough.

“I’m calling about a missing woman,” I said when he answered. “Elena Brooks. She was my father’s secretary.”

There was a pause.

“Go on,” Holt said carefully.

“She and my father were having a long-term affair. They have a seven-year-old son. She disappeared three weeks ago. No activity since. I believe her disappearance is connected to Marissa Richards.”

He exhaled slowly.

“Thank you for calling,” he said. “That is not insignificant. I will contact the detectives handling Elena’s file.”

Then his tone shifted.

“Before you hang up,” he said, “I need to tell you something about your mother’s case.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“We found the missing DNA sample.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “You… found it?”

“Yes. It had been logged under a different case number. We located it last week and ran it.”

“And?” I asked.

“It belongs to an unknown female.”

I leaned back against the counter. “A woman,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Holt said. “That narrows the field considerably.”

“Have you matched it yet?”

“Not yet. But we are working toward that.”

“How?”

There was a brief hesitation.

“We are currently monitoring Marissa Richards.”

“You’re what?”

“If a person voluntarily discards an item in a public place, a coffee cup, a napkin, a cigarette, a straw, it is legally recoverable. No warrant required.”

“So you’re trying to get her DNA.”

“Yes.”

“If it matches,” I said slowly.

“Then we have probable cause. And probable cause gets us a court-ordered DNA sample.”

I swallowed. “How long?”

“As long as it takes,” he replied, then paused. “Ashley, you were right to call.”