The blond detective shook his head. “His death was handled like a run of the mill overdose. Hell, if he hadn’t gone unclaimed and hit Major Crimes’ John Doe sheet, I wouldn’t have recognized the tattoo when she described it. There’s nothing suspicious in his file. Everything indicates an accidental overdose.”
Sarah shook her head. More adamant than ever. “Not on heroin. He wouldn’t have used heroin. Meth? Sure. Oxycodone? Sure. But not heroin.”
After a long look at her, the blond detective bent back over the report.
He was humoring her. Sarah knew it, could tell from the scowl brewing on Brett’s face that he knew it too.
But then the detective’s blond eyebrows rose. He leaned closer to the report, scanning and turning pages. “Huh…”
“What?” Brett leaned partway across the table, angling his head like he wanted a look at that report.
“A fresh needle puncture is mentioned. But no other track marks, recent or older, are listed,” the detective said as he flipped to the next page. He paused, his frown intensifying. “Several bruises of unknown origin were also noted. Arms and legs.” He looked up, his blue eyes flat and hard. “I’ll talk to the coroner. See if the bruises could be consistent with someone being held down.”
A beat of silence followed. Brett leaned back and folded his arms.
“Has it occurred to you boys that if Porter was right about Sean being dead, he could have been right about the rest of it too?” Brett said, his face hard. “You might have arms traffickers selling stolen weapons right under your noses.”
The two detectives looked at each other, their faces as stony as Brett’s. They obviously didn’t like that possibility at all.
The blond one turned back to Sarah. “How well did you know your brother’s friends?”
She swallowed. “I knew some of them.”
Her chest ached beneath a fresh surge of guilt. Of grief. She obviously hadn’t known his friends as well as she should have, or she would have protected him from this…from Mitch…from the criminals Mitch had hooked him up with. If she’d been paying attention to him two years ago instead of being so caught up in Brett, in being in love with someone for the first time in her life, she could have prevented all this. Warned him about Mitch. Shoved a wedge between the two of them.
If she’d kept an eye on him as she’d promised her mom, none of this would have happened. Sean would still be alive.
She’d promised to protect him, and she’d let the wolves take him instead.
“We’ll have you go through the mug shots. Maybe you’ll recognize one of the pics as an acquaintance of your brother’s. We could use a solid lead to pursue this.”
Sarah slid Brett a sidewise glance, suddenly realizing the opportunity that had opened up before her. Without even telling them about the video or what Mitch had told her, she might be able to identify the men on that video after all. She might be able to point them toward the gunrunners. She might be able to bring the bastards down.
She hadn’t been able to save Sean. She’d let him die.
But she could bring his killers to justice, make sure they didn’t steal anyone else’s life and break any more hearts.
Chapter Sixteen
The morgue was not at all what Brett had expected. It was bright and sunny, with soothing blues and peach on the walls. A cascade of windows along the waiting room wall let light stream in while looking out over a calming, almost parklike setting, complete with benches, a pond, and multiple waterfalls. The air even smelled fresh, like gourmet coffee and candles.
The first sign that the place was not as innocuous as it seemed was the glass-encased reception desk.
With the wan, silent ghost of Sarah beside him, Brett walked up to the enclosed desk and leaned closer to the metal disk with its slits for speaking.
“We’re here to pick up Sean Gillespie’s personal effects.”
The matronly woman behind the glass offered a sympathetic smile and a quick glance at Sarah. “Ah yes, Detective Evans called. He said you’d made the identification. I’m so relieved that young man’s family found him.” Her gaze shifted to Sarah and the smile dimmed. “You’re the sister?”
Sarah simply nodded, as though a verbal confirmation was beyond her. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the police department. Hadn’t responded to any of his ham-handed attempts to comfort her. She’d shut herself down completely. Locked herself away in her grief and