Page 28 of Den of Iniquity

“He never used to,” I replied, “but that might have changed. Why?”

“When it comes to getting DNA samples from people who don’t want to share them, a potential suspect’s garbage can can be yourbest friend,” she told me, “and cigarette butts make for a very useful kind of garbage. How old is your grandson?”

“Just turned eighteen.”

“Even though he’s no longer living in the area, I’m sure he still has friends there. Check with him to see if Caroline smokes or has a favorite kind of soda or other beverage, then see if he can enlist one of his friends to stage a raid on their trash can, looking for items she’s likely to have touched. It would be best if whoever does that uses latex gloves, but it’s not essential. And since we don’t need something that will hold up in court, there’s no need to worry about maintaining a chain of evidence.”

“But how does Kyle explain this whole caper to a friend?”

“His father and Caroline met on a dating site, right?”

“Correct,” I said.

“How many times have you heard about people hooking up with people on dating sites who turn out to be something other than what they’re pretending? Have him say he’s just trying to look into her background. That should work.

“If you and Kyle can come up with a sample attributable to the woman in question, I’ll be responsible for getting the profile. Then, if we can find a blood relative of Caroline’s, no matter how distant, I’ll go about working up family trees, which may help us sort out the geography involved. At that point, we start tracking down cases—most likely ones involving the feds—from back in 2002 and 2003 that also originate from that general area.”

“That should keep us off the streets for a while,” I observed.

“Yes, it will,” she agreed with a chuckle, “but at some point, someone from that family tree is going to intersect with a name from one of those cases. Then we’ll be in business. How are you fixed for search capability?”

“Not so hot personally,” I admitted, “but I have a friend who’s a whiz at it, and he has access to sites I’ve never even heard of.”

“Great,” Lulu replied. “Sounds like just the kind of guy we’re going to need.”

That afternoon, once Kyle came home and before Mel did, I broached the subject of trying to obtain samples of Caroline’s DNA to learn her true identity through the use of forensic genealogy.

“Should we tell Dad about this?” he asked.

“Not until we know for sure,” I told him. “The first problem is getting a sample of her DNA. Does she happen to smoke?”

“She shouldn’t, but she does,” he replied. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” I answered. “Cigarettes only or something else?”

“Nothing else that I know of.”

That was also good news. I didn’t want to be caught shipping the remains of a joint across state lines through the US Postal Service.

“What about your father?”

“He doesn’t smoke, and I don’t think he knows she’s doing it. She only does it behind his back.”

“Sounds like she does a lot of things behind his back,” I observed. “So here’s the deal. Do you know which day of the week is trash day at the house in Ashland?”

“Wednesdays,” he said. “I had to make sure the cans were hauled out to the curb every Tuesday night. Why?”

“Who’s your best friend down there?” I asked.

“Ricky,” he said at once. “Rick Malden. We’ve been friends since first grade. He’s the lead singer in the Rockets. Why?”

“How good of a friend is he?” I wondered. “The kind who would be willing to raid your family’s trash can to see if he can find anycigarette butts hiding there, especially cigarette butts with lipstick on them?”

“Probably, but what we’re asking him to do sounds pretty weird. What am I supposed to tell him about why we need her cigarette butts?”

“Does Rick know about the stunt Caroline pulled with your other friend?” I asked.

“With Gabe you mean?”

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