then.”
“Can you do anything with it without being at your lab? I doubt we have access to the chemicals you’d need here.”
She raised a finger. “There is another way—a new technique we’ve been using lately in the lab. Believe it or not, I can get prints off this by using a ceramic hair straightener.”
“You’re not serious?” I said.
“Completely. I’ll need my glasses to see the prints though.”
“You don’t wear glasses,” I said.
“I’m not talking about regular glasses. They’re special goggles with orange lenses. Under a certain light, I’ll be able to see the prints. It would probably be easier just to mail this to my guys and let them do it, but then we run the risk of this getting lost somewhere along the way, not to mention what could happen if one of my guys screws up.”
“They know what they’re doing, don’t they?” I said.
“Lifting prints from paper is delicate. If the straightener is on the paper for too long, the paper turns brown, and the prints are lost. Once that happens, there are no do-overs. They’re lost forever.”
I sighed.
“I shouldn’t have taken it,” I said. “Even if you get a print that doesn’t belong to you, me, the mailman, the processors at the post office, and Mr. and Mrs. Tate, you still can’t run it. Not here.”
It was like my brain was running on half a cylinder. I was practical, not irrational. I thought things through. I didn’t talk first and think later. My words were orchestrated, almost rehearsed. So what the hell was I doing?
“Well, it’s too late now,” Maddie said. “What do you want me to do with this?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
Maddie grabbed a container out of her suitcase, emptied it out, and placed the envelope inside. Then she shoved it into her purse. “While you’re thinking about things, I’ll go pick us up some dinner.”
Maddie scooped Lord Berkeley up with one hand and walked out the door. I stripped down to nothing and stepped into the shower. I stood beneath the faucet wishing the moisture could wash away a lot more than a few flecks of dirt. In some ways, I felt I was getting somewhere locating the missing girls. I’d found a new witness and convinced Mr. Tate to turn over the drawing. But in other ways, I wasn’t anywhere near finding the answers. Maybe that’s why I’d taken the envelope in the first place. I wanted to grasp at something, even if it was the wrong thing.
I thought about Giovanni and wondered if he’d found his sister yet. I should have been there helping him, even if he didn’t want me to—but I was committed to finding Olivia and Savannah. I couldn’t stop now.
I turned the water off and reached around the shower curtain for my towel. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and stepped out. A hand grabbed at my arm, slapping a handcuff around my wrist. I looked up. Cade McCoy lifted my cuffed hand into the air and snapped the other half of the cuff around the shower rod. Not the greatest idea, but since it was bolted into the wall on both sides and the rod appeared to be industrial-strength, it wouldn’t be the easiest thing to get out of. And he knew what he was doing. He’d wrapped it so tight, even with my small wrists there was no way for me to break free.
“What are you doing?!” I said.
“Where’s the envelope, Sloane?”
“What?”
“I know you took it from Tate’s house.” He dangled a key in front of my face. “Tell me where it is, and I’ll unlock you.”
“I don’t have it,” I said.
He shrugged.
“Guess I have no choice—I’ll have to find it myself.”
He walked out of the bathroom. A moment later I heard the sound of various items being strewn around the bedroom.
“How dare you—you can’t just go through my things!” I said. “What right do you—”
He stuck his head into the bathroom and winked. “You
“Can you do anything with it without being at your lab? I doubt we have access to the chemicals you’d need here.”
She raised a finger. “There is another way—a new technique we’ve been using lately in the lab. Believe it or not, I can get prints off this by using a ceramic hair straightener.”
“You’re not serious?” I said.
“Completely. I’ll need my glasses to see the prints though.”
“You don’t wear glasses,” I said.
“I’m not talking about regular glasses. They’re special goggles with orange lenses. Under a certain light, I’ll be able to see the prints. It would probably be easier just to mail this to my guys and let them do it, but then we run the risk of this getting lost somewhere along the way, not to mention what could happen if one of my guys screws up.”
“They know what they’re doing, don’t they?” I said.
“Lifting prints from paper is delicate. If the straightener is on the paper for too long, the paper turns brown, and the prints are lost. Once that happens, there are no do-overs. They’re lost forever.”
I sighed.
“I shouldn’t have taken it,” I said. “Even if you get a print that doesn’t belong to you, me, the mailman, the processors at the post office, and Mr. and Mrs. Tate, you still can’t run it. Not here.”
It was like my brain was running on half a cylinder. I was practical, not irrational. I thought things through. I didn’t talk first and think later. My words were orchestrated, almost rehearsed. So what the hell was I doing?
“Well, it’s too late now,” Maddie said. “What do you want me to do with this?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
Maddie grabbed a container out of her suitcase, emptied it out, and placed the envelope inside. Then she shoved it into her purse. “While you’re thinking about things, I’ll go pick us up some dinner.”
Maddie scooped Lord Berkeley up with one hand and walked out the door. I stripped down to nothing and stepped into the shower. I stood beneath the faucet wishing the moisture could wash away a lot more than a few flecks of dirt. In some ways, I felt I was getting somewhere locating the missing girls. I’d found a new witness and convinced Mr. Tate to turn over the drawing. But in other ways, I wasn’t anywhere near finding the answers. Maybe that’s why I’d taken the envelope in the first place. I wanted to grasp at something, even if it was the wrong thing.
I thought about Giovanni and wondered if he’d found his sister yet. I should have been there helping him, even if he didn’t want me to—but I was committed to finding Olivia and Savannah. I couldn’t stop now.
I turned the water off and reached around the shower curtain for my towel. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and stepped out. A hand grabbed at my arm, slapping a handcuff around my wrist. I looked up. Cade McCoy lifted my cuffed hand into the air and snapped the other half of the cuff around the shower rod. Not the greatest idea, but since it was bolted into the wall on both sides and the rod appeared to be industrial-strength, it wouldn’t be the easiest thing to get out of. And he knew what he was doing. He’d wrapped it so tight, even with my small wrists there was no way for me to break free.
“What are you doing?!” I said.
“Where’s the envelope, Sloane?”
“What?”
“I know you took it from Tate’s house.” He dangled a key in front of my face. “Tell me where it is, and I’ll unlock you.”
“I don’t have it,” I said.
He shrugged.
“Guess I have no choice—I’ll have to find it myself.”
He walked out of the bathroom. A moment later I heard the sound of various items being strewn around the bedroom.
“How dare you—you can’t just go through my things!” I said. “What right do you—”
He stuck his head into the bathroom and winked. “You
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