“Nothing we find here can be submitted as proof to the appellate court anyway,” Nick said. “But it might lead to new evidence that can.”
Each team had two hours to inspect the items under Nick’s supervision. The Alphas won a coin toss (supposedly fair and square, though Teddy suspected that Kate knew the right call beforehand) and chose to go first.
The evidence included: a knife taken from Corey’s tackle box; a photograph of the passenger seat of Corey’s car; fibers from the car itself; residue of Marlena’s blood; Marlena’s lipstick, sunglasses, and a pair of plastic flip-flops, all found in Corey’s car; additional photos of hair, fingerprints, and clothing fiber samples, also found in Corey’s car, in Corey’s and Marlena’s rooms, on Marlena’s body, and on Corey’s person; beer bottles recovered from the Dumpster outside the dorm with traces of Corey’s and Marlena’s DNA.
In addition to the kits, each team was provided with hair and clothing samples belonging to Corey and Marlena, as well as an intimate possession from each, which their families had donated to aid in the psychic investigation. From Marlena, a sterling ring set with an opalescent moonstone. From Corey, a copy of Romeo and Juliet that he was reading when he was arrested, which Teddy found both tragic and ironic.
The problem was that psychic gifts didn’t exactly work on command—or at least the Misfits’ didn’t. Which they were reminded of when Nick finally called them to the library to inspect the kits.
“I have a bad feeling about this knife,” Jillian said, dropping it as soon as she picked it up. “It’s caused a lot of death.”
“Yeah, to fish. All the blood found on the knife was fish blood,” Pyro said. “Just because the police found a knife doesn’t mean it’s the murder weapon. There’s nothing on the coroner’s report that indicates trauma relating to knife wounds.”
Pyro, despite having no psychic abilities that would reveal new evidence, had turned out to be a major asset to their team. As a former police officer, he knew more about procedure than all of them combined.
“What’s the point of this?” Jeremy said, pushing back his chair. Everyone hoped that he, as a psychometrist, would only have to hold Marlena’s or Corey’s personal items to crack the case open. But he hadn’t had any luck getting a clear read on the evidence.
“We just need something to go on before the interview at San Quentin,” Jillian said.
“I bet the Alphas figured it out this morning,” Dara said.
“Maybe they know something we don’t,” Pyro said.
“Or maybe they’re working together as a group,” Teddy suggested, “instead of bickering, like we are.”
Teddy surveyed the team. Pyro looked like he was about to punch someone; Jeremy wasn’t far behind. Molly was chewing a fingernail, almost like she wasn’t listening to the conversation. Teddy had assumed that Molly’s powers as an empath would have helped them understand Corey’s emotional state leading up to the crime, but so far, she’d said barely a word.
“Why don’t we divide up the kits and work separately for a bit?” Teddy asked. She looked at her watch. “Dinner’s in an hour. With any luck, we won’t have to lie when we tell Ni— Agent Stavros that we’re making progress on the case.”
Molly looked up. “What?”
Dara sighed. “I’m sorry, did we interrupt you?”
Molly smiled. “I’m sure we can figure this out if we work together.”
Pyro stood, the tips of his gloves smoking. “Just please, someone, do something.”
“It’s not like your powers come in handy here,” Jeremy said as he reached for the copy of Romeo and Juliet.
“We’re all frustrated,” Teddy said. “We don’t need to take it out on each other.”
She grabbed a few photographs and wove through a row of books toward a small table in the corner of the library. She settled in, eager for solitude. But after a minute or two, she saw Molly flop down a few seats away.
Teddy had thought she knew Molly well enough—but the girl she’d met on the ferry didn’t seem like the girl who’d hacked Eversley’s computer, or the girl who’d attacked her in the exam, or the girl who’d returned to Whitfield acting like a Stepford wife. This Molly seemed distracted, out of sorts. Teddy silently cursed. When she’d been a loner in Vegas, life had been easier. She hadn’t needed to give a shit about other people, to talk about feelings all the time. She blamed Clint. Screw empathy.
“Hey,” Teddy said softly. “Everything okay?”
“Just tired.” Molly smiled again. “These new exercises.”
“Are they worth it?” Teddy asked. “Even though they’re keeping people’s emotions out, I can’t help but think they’re keeping other stuff out, too.”
Molly looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not picking up on things you used to. You haven’t mentioned anything about the case—”
“Not everything is about the case, Teddy.”
“That’s not what I mean. Look,” Teddy started, “Jeremy told me about what happened last year.”
Molly chewed her lip. “I’m looking for a clean slate. Same as you.”
“But is it worth jeopardizing your health?”
“I . . .” Molly said.
Teddy studied the faded blue carpet on the library floor, trying to find the right words. She didn’t know how to voice what she was feeling. Concern, of course, but also frustration, maybe even suspicion. Months ago, Molly would have known without Teddy even having to try.
Dara wove through the stacks toward them, her signature silver bangles clinking. “Hurry,” she said. “Jillian’s got something.”
Jillian hunched over the table, her face so pale it looked practically white. Pyro stood next to her, his arms out as if he planned to catch her in case she fell over.
“She slipped Marlena’s ring onto her finger, and this happened,” Dara said.
Jillian heaved as if trying to catch her breath after running one of Boyd’s obstacle courses. Her hands traveled to her neck, clawing at something invisible there. In a high, thready voice not her own, she whispered: “I can’t breathe.”
Teddy lurched forward.
