Janie must have been thinking the same thing because she asked, “Did they find anything at all in the safe? Are they already gathering DNA?”
Rafe grimaced. Television had given DNA abilities it didn’t really have, like the ability to be everywhere. “A safe isn’t likely to cough up much DNA. Campus police report that this particular safe is opened by a code that has to be punched in. The crime-scene specialists will fingerprint the push buttons, but, keep in mind, the guard opened the safe this morning, technically putting his prints over whoever had opened it last.”
Katie leaned forward, intent. “Did the Adobe Hills police officer say what was inside the safe this morning?”
Finally, something he could answer. “A pair of handcuffs, two wallets and plenty of drug paraphernalia.”
Which meant any of that DNA Janie’d been hoping for would be compromised.
It hadn’t escaped Rafe’s notice that the two women were asking more questions of him than he was asking of them. But before he could form a question, Katie asked, “How long will it take to get back the results?”
“The average is one hundred and twenty days.”
The two towns in his county were small, so they were a low priority after both Tucson and Phoenix for the crime lab, located in Phoenix.
A list of who knew the code to the safe could be helpful, yet he doubted an accurate list could be put together. Most likely the college had had the same safe for twenty years, and every officer, past and present, had been given the code. Add to that list the college president, the deans...
Janie started to stand, decided to sit, then stood again, before finally plopping into the chair and burying her forehead in her hands. “Oh, man! I wish I’d never opened that art book. It was the first time Patricia was trusting me to evaluate the students’ work and offer comments.”
“If it leads to Brittney’s murderer,” Rafe said, “then we’re glad you did read that art book. Her parents deserve closure.”
“And I deserve to live to thirty!”
“You will.” Rafe personally intended to keep that promise. His number one priority was finding Brittney’s killer while keeping Janie safe.
He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes until he needed to leave to testify in court, and while he didn’t want to leave the case or Janie, there was no reason for him to delay the court date. In an hour, the art book would still be missing; Derek would still be dead.
And, for right now, Janie was about as safe as one could be at the Scorpion Ridge police station.
But he did need to keep her busy. He didn’t want her to bolt or break down. “I’m going to turn you over to my chief of police,” Rafe said. “I’m going to have you look at some photos. See if you recognize any of Derek’s friends.”
“He didn’t have friends,” she reminded him. “And I’m supposed to be at the university. I have classes today.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to miss them today. And you’ll be surprised what you’ll remember, the details you’ll recall, people and places.”
“I should never have opened his art book,” Janie muttered again.
“But you did,” Rafe said, “So now we’ll deal with it.” He smiled, trying to communicate that she wasn’t alone, that he’d do his job, take care of her.