“That’s why I’m going to call the ADA and ask her to get the warrant,” Duncan said. “This is going to take some fancy legal footwork to dazzle a judge.”
While Duncan made the call, Eve got some basic information about Priscilla from Alejandro, along with her hairbrush and a photo of her in a park, sitting on a blanket. The picture was taken before she was pregnant, or at least before she was showing. Priscilla was unsmiling, eyeing the camera warily, her black hair tied in a severe bun. She was in her thirties, round faced and a little chubby, wearing a Lakers hoodie and jeans. She seemed tired to Eve, but more than just physically. It was her whole being, body and soul.
Eve promised Alejandro that they’d get in touch with him as soon as they had any information. But Eve sensed that he knew they were holding something back and that it wasn’t good.
Before heading to Lost Hills, Duncan insisted that they have lunch at Dr. Hogly Wogly’s Tyler Texas BBQ, which was only a few blocks away, and since he was driving, Eve had no choice in the matter.
The ribs came drenched in watery sauce. Duncan was tempted to take off his jacket, tie, and shirt to protect them from stains but instead covered himself in napkins from his chin to his knees. Eve ordered a pulled pork sandwich, to cut the risk of staining her clothes, and a large Coke, hoping the sugar and caffeine would keep her alert.
Rebecca Burnside, their go-to ADA, called Duncan while they were eating to let him know they got their warrant to search the Grayles’ house for evidence of murder and for Priscilla Alvarez’s body. She also strongly advised Duncan to buy a lottery ticket today, because he was a very lucky man. The grounds for the search warrant were very thin.
But Duncan already knew he was lucky. He’d finished lunch without getting a single spot on his clothes.
The first thing Duncan and Eve did when they got back to Lost Hills station was to bring Captain Shaw up to date on the case. When they were done, he stared at them from across his desk. He didn’t look pleased.
“This will make two homes you’ve searched in two days.”
Since Duncan was the one leading the charge on the Grayles’ house, Eve let him answer the captain.
“The investigation has evolved,” Duncan said.
“That’s not the way it looks to me. You seem to be scrambling.”
“We’re trying to keep up with fast-moving events,” Duncan said. “This began as a stillbirth but then the autopsy revealed that we’re actually dealing with a fetal abduction. That changed everything. We know the baby doesn’t belong to Anna McCaig. We also know that Priscilla Alvarez, a pregnant woman who works in Oakdale, came through the gate the same day and didn’t leave, at least not alive.”
“We’re confident that DNA taken from hairs on Priscilla’s brush will confirm that the baby was hers,” Eve added, trying to bolster Duncan’s argument. “But we can’t wait for that or vital evidence at the crime scene could be lost in the meantime.”
“Which crime scene?” Shaw asked.
Oh crap, Eve thought. She’d reminded him that they were still holding the scene at McCaig’s place.
Duncan spoke up before she could create more problems. “McCaig says she found the baby in her dumpster and the last person to see Priscilla alive was Daphne Grayle, who is desperately trying to have a kid. If what McCaig says is true, then the murder happened at the Grayles’。”
Shaw looked at Eve. He wasn’t so easily distracted. “What about the McCaig house? Do you still want to hold the scene?”
“At least until we have something definitive on Priscilla Alvarez.”
“Uh-huh.” Shaw leaned back in his chair, steepled his hands on his chest, and regarded the two detectives. “I’m sensing a difference of opinion between you two. You think it’s McCaig and he thinks it’s Grayle.”
Duncan said, “We’re keeping an open mind and exploring all avenues of investigation.”
“While tying up a lot of department resources,” Shaw said.
“Someone ripped a baby from a mother’s womb,” Eve said. “Getting the monster who did that is worth all of our resources.”
She’d surprised herself by saying that, more by the vehemence behind it than the words themselves. Shaw and Duncan both looked at her. After a moment, Shaw leaned forward and put his hands on his desk.
“You’d better find what you are looking for at the Grayles’ house,” Shaw said. “Because if you’re wrong, the weather forecast for tomorrow is a category five shitstorm.”