Free The Day Before by Liana Brooks Page A

later. In the meantime, try taking a hot shower and reading a book,” Sam said. “Call me back when you’re sober, and your pickled brain remembers what caused this.” She hung up, putting the receiver down a bit harder than she needed to.
    Growling under her breath, Sam started to fill in the forms to close the case. Jane deserved so much more. A name on her gravestone, the promise of her killer brought to justice. No one deserved an anonymous grave to be buried and forgotten. Sam marked Class Five, suicide with questions.
    Saint Peter have mercy, Jane didn’t die like that. Surely God and the saints would understand. As soon as I have more information, I’ll give Jane back her name. She’d tell the Father at confession and say a few extra Hail Marys. At least Marrins would be satisfied, and her transfer paperwork could finally get processed.

 
    CHAPTER 6
    When I close my eyes for the last time, I pray to the unfeeling gods that my last thought is not one of regret. Let me live while I live, so that I might die in peace.
    ~ Excerpt from The Heart of Fear by Liedjie Slaan I1
    Monday May 27, 2069
    Alabama District 3
    Commonwealth of North America
    S am deleted the itinerary from her mother and took a bite of her blueberry muffin and perused the list of possible matches for Jane Doe. Still nothing. Searching by estimated height, weight, and age wasn’t connecting Jane to any person missing or dead in the public database. Sam tried to dismiss the feeling she was missing something. All the flags were there for a black-­market-­clone case . . . except for the known clone markers. Agent Anan in Birmingham was still holding out hope that Atlanta would find Verville traces, but that only made the decision to close Jane’s case worse.
    â€œAgent Rose.” The receptionist’s voice over the intercom stopped Sam mid–internal rant.
    She hit the REPLY button. “In my office.”
    â€œYou have a visitor, Agent Rose. The lady identifies herself as Miss Chimes. Should I have her come back another time?”
    â€œShow her up, please.” Sam brushed the crumbs off her desk and slipped out the pair of handcuffs issued to her for emergencies. She dropped them into her lap as she heard voices in the hall.
    â€œThis way,” the secretary said. “Last office on the left.”
    â€œThank you,” was the demure reply. A woman stepped into Sam’s office, dark skin, green eyes, wiry curls with a tint of red. Atlantic Islander Irish with a mocha-­latte baby resting on her hip. She didn’t look like a college student working her way through school.
    â€œMiss Chimes?” Sam motioned to the free chair. “Won’t you have a seat?”
    Miss Chimes took the seat with athletic grace. “It’s Chimes-­Martin now,” she said with the crisp accent only an expensive private education could buy.
    Sam quickly reassessed her guest. “You aren’t Melody?”
    Mrs. Chimes-­Martin gave her a bland look. “I’m Dulcet, Melody’s older sister. Detective Altin said you were handling Melody’s disappearance?”
    â€œIf the police determine she is missing, yes, I’d take over. I’m the bureau liaison for the case.”
    â€œIf she is?” Dulcet Chimes-­Martin said in a tight voice. “What do you mean, if she is ? My sister isn’t answering her phone. How much more evidence could you possibly need?”
    â€œThere is no evidence your sister is missing, only that she left work. The summer course she’s enrolled in starts in two weeks so she hasn’t missed any classes yet. She hasn’t missed work. She hasn’t been reported missing by her family—­unless that’s what you’re here to do. According to her work file, she was going on vacation and planned to spend the week with her parents. The bureau is not in the habit of chasing down ­people on vacation