don’t think the guy was planning on taking me that night. I think he had a much better plan, a much solider plan, but he was getting impatient, and with you not being there, I think he saw an opportunity and took advantage.”
“And how is that a coup?”
“Because it was a last-minute decision. And he made mistakes.”
“What kinds of mistakes?”
“I think he was going to take me in the parking lot before I drove off, but someone must’ve interrupted him. Why else let me get into Dad’s truck and drive off if I’d been drugged? I could’ve wrecked and died and ruined the whole plan.”
“I wondered about that, too.”
“He had to have been watching me for weeks. Maybe he followed me there and saw his opportunity. Seriously, how often were we apart?”
“True. If we were out in public, we were out in public together.”
“We were inseparable. Even my mom said so. I think your bailing on me has given us more clues than we’d hoped for.”
“Like?”
“Like he had to get me out of the truck before someone pulled over to help, right?”
“Yeah, sure, but forensics went over that truck—”
“I’m not talking about the truck. I’m talking about the guardrail I hit. Because he had to let me get in the truck and start to drive home, I hit the guardrail. Because I hit the guardrail, he had to pull over and get me out. And because it was all so unplanned, he didn’t have the opportunity to wait the requisite time for the drug to take affect before he pulled me out.”
“Okay, I’m following you. I think.”
“I’ve been remembering things. Like a dream, but still remembering them. When I pulled over, I don’t think I put the truck in park.”
“Well, you were passing out. It’s easy to understand.”
“Exactly. I remembered the truck creeping forward, scraping against the guardrail, and someone screaming. Then I have an image—a grainy, blurry image—of a man trying to wrap his hand with a towel or something. It’s like I’m in the back seat of a vehicle and he’s driving and cursing up a storm and trying to wrap his hand. And it’s red.”
“His hand?”
“No. Well, yes, but the inside of his car. I remember thinking at least the blood wouldn’t show up too badly because it would match.”
“So, when the truck crept forward, his hand got stuck between it and the guardrail?”
“Yes. I think.”
“You know the likelihood of finding DNA evidence at this point.”
She did, sadly.
Zee knocked on the door, and Sun waved her in. “We got a preliminary on the DB, Sheriff. There were definitely two distinct blood types on the clothes. They’ve sent them off for analysis.”
“Good. Did they say what the types were?”
“The first one, O positive, matches that of Kubrick Ravinder.”
“O positive?” she asked, one theory shot to hell. She took a moment to absorb that, to contemplate what that meant. “They’re certain?”
“As far as I know.”
Sun sat back in the chair. She’d so hoped to have some answers.
“What?” Quincy asked.
“I thought maybe he . . . you know. Maybe he was the one. I mean, the timing is perfect, and I have no doubt I was held there.”
“Well, he was found near Ravinder land. Maybe an animal dragged him there. But how do you know he’s not your guy?”
“The blood type. I’m B negative.”
“Oh yeah, I remember your blood type is really rare, right?”
“Very. But Auri has an even rarer type. AB negative. Only 1 percent of the population has it.”
“Wow. So, that tells us?”
“That means in order for Auri to have AB, her . . . father, for lack of a better term, had to have either A or AB. Trust me, I’ve done the research.”
“Then this certainly fits,” Zee said, scanning the report.
“Really?” A tingling ran up Sun’s spine. “What was the second type?”
“AB negative.”
Sun stood and took the report out of her deputy’s hands. “Are they sure?”
“I’m assuming they know how to type blood.”
“So, Kubrick didn’t abduct me?”
Quincy stood and studied the report, too. “Not necessarily. He may not be Auri’s biological father, but he could have been in on the kidnapping. Maybe he had a partner.”
“In all actuality,” Zee said, “they both . . . you know, could have.”
Quincy nodded. “But only one could get you pregnant.”
Sun closed the file and handed the report back.
“I’m sorry,” Zee said. “That was callous.”
“It was not. You’re being methodical and honest. And a good deputy. I appreciate all three.”
“Thank you.” Zee started to leave, then turned back. “One more