Intimate Danger (Empire Blue) by D.C. Stone

her head. But what was the link? There was always one, so where was it?
    She looked around again. They needed to control contamination. It was unknown how many people had access to this room, but she assumed it was just the couple. Collecting and preserving evidence could prove futile, but anything, whether it be blood, hairs, or fingerprints, tracing back to anyone other than those two would hopefully give them the lead they needed. From the looks of things, it didn’t seem as if much, if anything, had been taken. So that ruled out pawnshop visits, internet sales to check if anything was passed off. No, this entire scene had a different feel from theft.
    The checklist popped in her mind.
    Crime scene technicians. Forensics. Are they on scene? And if so, they need to process everything, ASAP. See if fingerprints, fibers, or hairs have been left behind. Check around the house for footprints or trash unknowingly left behind.
    Was she overdoing this? Would the chief even approve that kind of expense to bring in state forensics? Sending the examples to the state would take time, and cost a bit of money. Sure they had Trent’s backing on this, but was she still supposed to operate under her own policies, or did she go to Trent with this? What if they found a link using their high tech equipment? She wanted to have faith that they could do this without the feds’ help and, damn it, she wanted to prove herself. When compared to what they had in Nyack, their resources seemed medieval. What if she missed something?
    Get someone assigned for scene security. Start documenting who enters and exits the area.
    Document the evidence as it’s found.
    She shook her head. God, it was a B&E, not an armed robbery, but still, this was her shot to show she could do this.
    Calm your ass down, Charlie. Get a damn grip.
    Steps sounded behind her and Peter cleared his throat. “Charlie, you might want to take a look at this.”
    She glanced at what he held. A picture of a large shoe print, and if she had to predict, it would match the previous ones and be a size thirteen, Hush Puppy. The same damn thing forensics found last time. This scene was all too familiar.
    “Let me guess,” she grumbled.
    “Yup, an exact match. The team is pulling an impression now. But the size, type, and distinctive marks are a bull’s-eye.”
    Hope flared. Adrenaline surged. This was the reason she became a detective. Puzzles pumped her blood, and these crimes were just one gigantic puzzle begging to be put together.
    She walked around the bed with precise and watchful steps. The next parts of the checklist flowed in her mind. “All right, have the techs run the impression and search for fingerprints. If the scene is anything like the last one, and at first glance it looks that way, then there is the chance we will not find any. It doesn’t hurt to try, though. This entire room needs to be dusted and we’ll have to get a set from the homeowners to rule them out.” She paused and drew a cautious gulp of the bitter liquid.
    “Owens and the chief are interviewing the couple now,” Dwayne supplied.
    Her head snapped up. “The chief is here?” What in the hell is he doing?
    He nodded. “Yeah, I called him first. He was actually the one to pull you in. And Agent Rossi is on his way. Sorry, Charlie.”
    She clenched her jaw, and a muscle popped. If history repeated itself…
    “Charlie, don’t look at me like that.”
    She gave him a droll look. “Like what? Like my partner sold me out? This is my investigation. I don’t want to be removed…again.”
    “No one said you would be,” the chief rumbled from the doorway. He wore dark jeans, a white department polo, and tired eyes. “This is your case. All of them are being linked into one.” His gaze pinned her to the spot. “I won’t get in your way, but I expect to be kept abreast of what’s going on, at all times. And you need to keep Agent Rossi on board, too. I mean it.”
    Promises, promises. “Of