that respect,”
Ed went on quietly. “The blood on the nightgown
was from a scrape on her knee, which apparently
happened when she was dragged down the stairs.”
He paused. “There was something else. There was
Ketamine in her system.”
Matt stiffened. “Someone drugged her first?
Christ, do you suppose the perp planned to assault
her and got interrupted?”
“No idea. He might have just wanted to make
the whole thing easier. Slip the kid Ketamine, and
there’d be no struggle at all.”
“Do they know how it got into her system?”
“Powder, delivered orally.”
“He fed it to her?”
Ed’s lips formed a tight line. “Apparently.”
“Doesn’t that indicate a level of trust?” Matt
muttered. “So, someone she knows, then?”
“Not necessarily. You threaten a six-year-old
kid and tell them to eat or drink something, they’re
going to do it. There were remnants of cookies in
her stomach. Coroner thinks it was on the
frosting.”
Matt sighed. “I saw Branson on the tube last
night. He looks exhausted.”
“Media’s crawling all over him. I don’t like the
bastard, but I wouldn’t want to be him this week.”
“He did everything but say they’re looking at
Marc Reynolds.”
“You know the protocol. Eliminate the most
obvious suspects first.”
“Yeah, but are they eliminating him?”
Ed rolled his eyes toward Branson’s office.
“Some people,” he said, very softly, “seem more
convinced of his involvement than others.”
“Meaning Preston.” Matt looked back toward
the enclosed office. The ADA was still pacing,
and a raised voice could now be heard, even if
what was actually being said could not. Ed
shrugged, but his eyes spoke volumes. “Is there
anything concrete linking the father?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned. But you know
how much weight that carries around here.”
“Listen, Ed, I know I’m not officially on the
case anymore. I’ve been put on administrative
leave…”
“Really?” Ed’s expression was carefully bland.
“I thought you were on vacation.”
Matt huffed. “Yeah, right. Vacation. Anyway. If
I wanted to get into the house, is there a way I
might be able to do it?”
“You mean, the Reynolds house?” Ed leaned
forward then, pulling a report over in front of him
and pretending to read it. “Well, officially, since
you’re no longer on the case, I’d have to say you
couldn’t enter the premises under the auspices of
being part of this office.” He glanced over his
shoulder. “However, since the scene has been
cleared and returned to the family, it’s up to them
to decide who’s allowed admittance to their
home.”
“I should just knock on the door and ask them to
let me in?”
Ed’s lips pursed. “Well…I have it on pretty
good authority Mrs. Reynolds was very unhappy
you’d been removed from the case.”
“It’s news to me.”
“You didn’t think Branson was going to call and
tell you? Morales told me the missus was
extremely put out you were no longer involved.”
He gave Matt a pointed look. “She told Branson it
seemed to her you were the only one who actually
cared her child had been murdered. I think if you
knock on the door, she might invite you in for
coffee.”
Matt tossed Ed’s pencil onto the desk and
reached into his pocket for his gloves. “Thanks,
Ed. I owe you one.”
“Yeah, so next time we’re out, buy me a beer.”
“Will do.” Matt turned to walk away when he
felt Ed’s hand touch his arm.
“The evidence does not support the kid’s father
having done this,” Ed muttered. “But the DA’s
office is hot for an indictment, and he’s caught in
the crosshairs. I don’t like defense attorneys either,
but this isn’t right.”
Matt pulled his gloves on briskly. “I’ll see what
I can find out.”
“Good man.”
Just as Matt was nodding, the door to Branson’s
office burst open and Assistant District Attorney
Garrett Preston