Jaxon and Sally were at the station going over pictures from the missing person’s files. They had been searching through the files since late December without a single hit. They had even expanded to the surrounding counties and were currently going through Prince George’s County in Maryland.
Looking at pictures of thousands of missing persons was a tedious and time consuming task and Jaxon was about to go blind from it. He put down the shot he was holding and rubbed his eyes. He had a headache spreading from the back of his neck into the crown of his scalp. He needed a Coke.
“I’m getting a drink,” he said. “You want anything?”
“A Diet Pepsi,” Sally said. “Here…” she grabbed a dollar and stuck her hand out to him.
“I got it.” He waved her hand away and walked around his desk.
“Thanks!” she yelled after him.
The John Doe had been a thorn in their sides. He had never had this much trouble identifying an individual before. He couldn’t understand why they were having such bad luck. The fingerprints came back negative and this led to a suspicion Jaxon had in regards to the age of the boy. Nowadays every mother out there had their kids fingerprinted, photographed, and even DNA typed, anything they could think of in the unlikely event they would have to report their child missing or even provide some kind of identification should the worst happen. He’d even heard of some parents having chips implanted underneath the kid’s skin so they could be scanned into a computer system like a dog or a cat.
This trend was only about fifteen to twenty years old though, and this made Jaxon sure they were searching for a name that had been in the database for over twenty years. Somebody had kept the kid frozen for a hell of a long time.
The decapitated dog had provided little usable evidence as well. The fingernails they had pulled from the skin of the dog had in fact belonged to the John Doe. After running DNA on the skin found underneath the kid’s fingernails, the lab called and told Doc Barstow it was animal DNA. Specifically that of a dog. A poodle mix. It only took a few minutes afterward to match up the missing fingernails of the kid to the ones they pulled from the dog. The problem was the kid had been dead for quite a while and the dog was recent. Dead end. This asshole was smart. He was throwing all kinds of empty leads at them to slow them down and it was working. He felt like he was spinning his wheels for naught.
Doc Barstow had been frustrated too. He was used to seeing things that most people considered appalling, but when he explained what the perp had to go through just to get the John Doe’s fingernails embedded in the dog’s skin, it set him off.
That had been five months ago and they had little reason to visit the morgue since then. John Doe was still on ice there and would remain in the morgue until they either identified him or they no longer needed the body.
Jaxon walked back into the investigations department and put Sally’s Diet Pepsi on her desk.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t mention it,” he said and grinned.
Sitting back down at his desk, he grabbed another stack of photos and started leafing through them.
“I’m getting a headache,” she said.
“Can’t be worse than mine.”
His phone rang. “Jaxon.”
“It’s Halson. Found something interesting on the fibers in the Doe/Bannon case.”
“Shoot,” Jaxon said.
“Some of the fibers pulled from the filtered pool water match the clothing on the Doe boy and then some do not.”
“So…”
“I’m getting there,” Halson said. “The fabric from the Doe clothing is manufactured using a very new and modern technique. The textile mills in India began developing a type of nanotechnology to enhance their fabrics. Basically they were looking for ways to improve softness, durability, inflammability-that kind of thing. It’s almost like genetic engineering for cloth.”
“What are you saying? The clothing is special?”
“Sort of. It’s only sold through one chain in the U.S. Old Navy stores, of which there are three in Fairfax county. Jaxon-these are modern clothes on a kid who has been dead for a long time.”
“Ok-so he dressed him in new duds for the swim.”
“Wait, I’m not finished. We found a few other fibers which were also unusual. Two small samples of a Dacron/cotton mixture which are no longer manufactured and a rubber type compound that is also obsolete. Both of these types of materials were found to be toxic in some form or another and the production of them was halted in 1985.”
“But if the…”
“Hold on. Both the rubber and the cloth were new to the market back then and were only made for a short time before they were pulled. Specifically, the production of the cloth began in March of 1984 and the rubber in April of that same year. They were both shut down in September of 1985.”
“How confident are you these fibers are from our John Doe?” Jaxon asked, a grin forming on his face.
“Pretty damn sure. The management company says they drain the pool yearly for maintenance. I mean you could have some old ‘has been’ with his rejects from the 80’s hanging out by the pool looking for babes, but that’s highly unlikely. I’d say about 80 % sure.”
“Halson, you are my hero as of this moment.”
“Don’t get too excited. You still have some work to do to find out who the kid is.”
“We’re on it.”
* * *
Luke and Ellie were at her house sitting in a swing in her backyard. They both had a glass of lemonade in their hands and were leaning shoulder to shoulder against each other sipping the drinks. It was hot.
He could tell she was still upset at him about the rocket episode, but at least she was talking.
“I’m sure after this cools off a bit,” Luke said, “Mr. Stinson will be a lot more forgiving. He’s just upset at us right now.”
“I doubt it,” Ellie said. “He looked pretty angry. Adults seem to hold on to grudges almost as long as girls.” She smiled.
At least she could joke about it. “We’ll see. I’ll bet you’re babysitting for Mel and Robby again before the summer’s over.”
“I’m not counting on it, but it would be nice. I like those two a lot.”
She was quiet for a minute, then said, “Are you worried about the missing pets?”
“No-not really. It might just be coincidence. I know you’re worried.”
“Do you really think five missing dogs and cats is a coincidence?”
“Is it that many?”
She nodded. “Three from your court, one from mine, and one from Oak Street.”
“Three from my court? Damn-I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Does sound like a lot. Have any of them been found?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go around asking anybody. They would think I was weird.”
“True.”
“What? I’m weird?” she asked.
“Totally. The weirdest person I know. I mean, look at the company you keep.”
She punched him in the arm and he spilled his drink in his lap.
“Hey!” he yelled, laughing. He threw the rest of the lemonade at her and it hit her right in the face. She sat there with her mouth open in shock.
“Oh crap! I’m sorry, El! I didn’t mean to.”
She laughed and dumped her lemonade over the top of his head. It ran down his face and back and he cringed from the cold. “That’s it weirdo! You’re in for it now!” He reached for her but she jumped up and ran. He caught up to her near a big maple tree in her backyard and she squealed as he tackled her to the ground. She rolled over on top of him and he let her pin his arms to the ground. The sticky lemonade made grass and dirt cling to their faces and clothes.
