Allison Brennan - Cutting Edge

A blonder, shorter, younger, and spunkier woman than Nora trekked over from the far corner. She gave him a full-body graze before turning to the FBI agent and saying, “It’s the same accelerant. I’ll take the samples back to the lab, but I know. But get this-the victim had no shirt on.”

“Wasn’t it burned off?” Nora asked.

“Nope, no shirt. His back has no burns. There’d be remnants of a shirt beneath him had he been wearing one, but the fire didn’t burn long enough to incinerate clothing. There’s nothing.”

Nora frowned. She was about to ask a question, then glanced at Duke. “Quin Teagan, Duke Rogan. Quin is a state arson investigator on the DOMFOR task force. Duke Rogan is with Rogan-Caruso, Butcher-Payne’s security company.”

Quin smiled in surprise. “You’re Duke Rogan?” She glanced at Nora. Duke had the distinct impression that Nora had discussed him with this woman. Somehow, that made him both hopeful and apprehensive.

Nora asked Quin, “Is it okay for Duke to get a closer look at the body for a positive ID?”

“Sure. Look, don’t touch.” She smiled again at Duke, and he didn’t miss the double entendre. “Sis, can I talk to you a sec?”

Sis? Quin Teagan was Nora’s sister? Curious. He wanted to know what they were saying when the women walked to the far corner of the room-it obviously had something to do with the arson-but he was drawn to the doorway.

“You can come under the tape,” the M.E. said, “if you need a closer look. But walk only on that path.” He pointed to a white sheet that had been spread from the doorway to the body. “We’re trying to minimize contamination of evidence.”

Duke lifted the tape to stoop under. He took three steps toward the body and stopped.

The corpse was red and black, much of the skin completely gone. Little hair, no shirt, barely looking human. Duke didn’t want to contemplate the smells that mingled with smoke and smoldering metals.

“He didn’t suffer,” the M.E. said with compassion.

“How do you know?”

“He was found on his back. He was at least unconscious when the fire started.”

“You can tell how he died from the autopsy, right?”

“It depends; fire fatalities are among the trickiest to pin down a cause of death.”

Duke focused on identifying the body, but one look and he was certain it was Jonah. Even with the burns, it was him. If there were any doubt, seeing his wedding band, covered in soot, on the left ring finger, even though his childhood sweetheart was twelve years in the grave, would have convinced him. But he didn’t need the ring, or the glasses, or the other evidence. It was Jonah.

“Rest in peace, my friend,” he whispered.

He walked back to the doorway, a deep sadness battling with a driving need to know the truth. He glanced at Nora and her sister the arson investigator, who were huddled in the corner. Nora looked at him. He nodded, glanced back at Jonah, then left the building. As soon as he stepped out into the fresh dawn air, he breathed easier.

He pulled out his iPhone and called his little brother. Sean had been wanting to be more involved with Rogan-Caruso business, and this was the perfect time to give him an assignment.

Sean answered with a groan. “It’s six-fifteen in the morning, Duke.”

“You’re going back to school.”

“Hell no.”

“Hell yes. Shower and dress, I’m picking you up in one hour.”

Nora listened to Quin’s theory. It made some sense, but Nora had more questions. “How can you tell they took the animals instead of releasing them? And how do you know that any animals were here in the first place?”

“On my way back from San Francisco I had Devon working on my laptop doing some research on Butcher-Payne-”

“Devon? Who the heck is Devon?”

“I told you I was in San Francisco on a date.”

Nora blinked. “I–I guess I assumed you’d gotten back together with Josh.” They’d broken up two weeks ago.

Quin rolled her eyes. The habit had irritated Nora when she was a teenager, and it irritated her more now.

“When have I ever gotten back together with any of my old boyfriends?”

She had a point. “And who’s this Devon? Why are you bringing him into a federal investigation?”

“Ouch, a little passive-aggressive there, Nora?”

“Quin, I had two hours of sleep before the phone rang. Can you just answer the question?”

“Devon is a doctor. He’s all over the biotech stuff. He’s a good guy, not an arsonist or rabble-rouser. I’m not an idiot, Nora.”

She silently counted to ten. “I’m sorry. I’m testy.”

“Really,” she said sarcastically. “I think you need to take Duke Rogan to bed. My God, Nora, I can’t believe you didn’t go out with him when he asked! Are you insane?”

Nora glanced over at Payne’s office. Duke Rogan wasn’t there.

Quin laughed. “Made you look. He walked out two minutes ago.”

“Let’s not talk about my sex life.”

“What sex life?”

“Quin-”

“Damn, Nora, you had that hot guy interested in you and you put him off?” She shook her head.

“The animals, Quin.”

“Right, the bunnies.”

“Bunnies?”

“Well, I don’t know what critters Payne had around, but Devon looked up their projects online-at least what they have publicized. Though they have patents for developing nanotechnology-”

“Nano? Like biocomputer cells?”

“Beats me, I haven’t a clue, though I bet Duke Rogan does.” She winked. “He could give Apollo a run for his money.”

“Apollo?”

“He looks like an Apollo to me. Zeus is too old-”

“Quin!”

“Right. All business, all the time.”

Nora reluctantly realized that Duke probably did know a lot about nanotechnology, but she didn’t want to ask him if she could get the answers from Quin or someone else. She really didn’t want to bring Duke in as a civilian consultant, but he did have clearance and expert knowledge in security, as well as being familiar with Butcher-Payne.

“Forget I told you about Duke, Quin, or I’ll never talk to you again about men. What did-”

Quin interrupted. “Do I hear a bit too much protesting?”

“Tell me what your boyfriend said, Quin.”

Quin knew when to get serious. “Okay, so their big thing used to be nanotech, but they shifted gears a couple years ago and are now heavily involved in gene therapy. Looking for a cure, or an inoculation, for the avian flu. It’s a particularly strong virus that can be spread from birds to people. Other strands can be transferred from pigs to-”

“I’m familiar with avian flu,” Nora said.

“Great. So Butcher-Payne has apparently developed a way to prevent avian flu using gene therapy. At least, that’s their goal and they’ve had some minor success, Devon said.”

“I don’t quite see the implications.”

“Well, if no birds are carriers, then they can’t pass on the virus to humans, right? Over time the virus will disappear.”

“I read an article somewhere that gene therapy was illegal.”

“On humans, not animals. There have been several successes with animal testing. We’re a lot more complex, I guess. Anyway, it’s a truly cutting-edge technology.”

“This isn’t a copycat, right? Arson to cover up corporate espionage?”

Quin wrinkled her nose and dismissed the idea, as Nora had earlier. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “Unless one of the arsonists is in it for something completely different. It’s not a copycat-that I’m almost one hundred percent certain. Same graffiti, same accelerant, same burn pattern, and when I get through this mess I’ll bet I’ll find pieces of their sneaky little bomb.”