M Sellars - All acts of pleasure

“Well, yeah, it’s not unusual ta’ hafta get your attorney involved, but I don’t think ya’ can give ‘er credit for this one. They’re kinda in a hurry ta’ get past all this.”

“Any idea why?”

“Yeah, ‘cause they fucked up.”

“Obviously,” I said with an animated nod. “But what I mean is did you manage to get any details about what finally brought that fact to their attention?”

He looked around. “Where’s Firehair?”

“Downstairs starting another load of laundry; she’ll be up in a minute. Why?”

“I’ll tell ya’ when she’s here too, that way I only gotta say it once. So, look, ya’ got any sandwich stuff or anything? I skipped breakfast.”

“What happened?” I quipped. “Did coming here cause you to miss out on your donut fix this morning?”

“There ya’ go with the donut jokes again. Ya’know, ya’ better be careful. Not all coppers got as good a sense of humor as me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Sandwich?”

I shook my head. “There’s stuff in the fridge. Help yourself, but seriously, Ben, don’t you ever buy groceries?”

He was already rooting through the shelves of the refrigerator, loading the crook of his arm with whatever happened to strike his fancy.

“Yeah,” he replied over his shoulder. “But yours are better.”

“Why? Because they’re free?”

“Well, yeah, that’s part of it,” he chuckled.

“You are going to put all that away when you’re done, aren’t you?” Felicity’s voice rang out from the doorway. “We’ve been cleaning since yesterday, and I don’t need you making a mess in here.”

“And how are you?” Ben asked without turning.

“I’m just fine, as long as you don’t wreck my house again.”

He turned toward her and held up his hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me that trashed the place.”

“Rowan tells me they had badges, so that means they were part of your little fraternity.”

“Ouch,” he feigned a wince. “Row’s got you hatin’ cops now too, eh?”

“I have a good reason of my own.”

“Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“And, destroying my belongings didn’t help,” she added.

“Again, not me.”

“There is the whole guilt by association concept.”

“Is there any way I’m gonna get outta this?” he asked, looking over at me.

“Probably not,” I replied. “You’re convenient right now, and there was definitely some damage done during the search. She’s not happy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I’m pissed off is what I am,” she interjected.

“Shit,” he huffed. “A lot of damage?”

“Enough,” Felicity spat. “Besides, any at all is too much.”

He turned back to the pile of foodstuffs and began untwisting the tie on a loaf of bread. “Bag it, tag it, and make a list, then give it all ta’ your lawyer and tell ‘er what happened.”

“What good will that do?”

“Depends,” he replied. “Did ya’ take pictures of the place before ya’ started cleanin’ up?”

“No.” I shook my head even though he wasn’t looking my way. “I guess we should have.”

“Woulda’ been a good idea.”

“Well, it just didn’t cross my mind given everything that’s been going on.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. Either way, ya’ still need ta’ give the stuff to your mouthpiece. She might be able ta’ get ya’ a coupla’ bucks if the damage can be deemed unnecessary.”

“Aye, it was damned unnecessary,” Felicity spoke up again, her temper starting to flare. “I can tell you that right now.”

“Why don’t we change the subject.” I endeavored to shift the conversation away from re-lighting her fuse. “You had something to tell us, Ben?”

“What? Oh yeah…” He finished mounding deli meat and cheese on a slice of bread and then started twisting the lid from the jar of mayonnaise. “So, Firehair, you got a sister you been hidin’?”

“No,” she replied flatly, scrunching her brow. “And just where the hell did that question come from anyway?”

“The DNA tests.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Seems the DNA what hung ya’, sprung ya’.”

“Cute, but don’t quit your day job,” Felicity quipped. “Would you mind explaining just exactly what you’re talking about?”

Ben looked over to me. “Remember what Mandalay and I were tellin’ ya’ about the DNA last night?”

“No. I wasn’t here if you recall,” my wife chimed in an annoyed tone.

“I was talkin’ ta’ Rowan.”

“Well talk to me. It’s my DNA you’re babbling about.”

“Jeezus H. Christ, if it ain’t one of ya’, it’s the other. You wanna take a swing at me too?”

“If you don’t get to the point, aye, maybe I will.”

“Felicity,” I interjected. “Give him a chance to talk, okay?”

She let out a hard breath, and her shoulders drooped in unison with it. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she offered. “I’ve had better weekends if you know what I mean.”

“S’okay. It’s understandable,” he answered as he placed the dressed slice of bread atop the mound on the counter and mashed it down to a manageable thickness. “So anyway, we were explainin’ to Row about how DNA is used as evidence. The long and short of it is, what they got on you was a partial match. Thing is, it was such a close partial, and since the samples were degraded, it looked like enough ta’ go after ya’.”

“But it wasn’t?” she asked.

“Well, as it stood, yeah, it kinda was. Up until Saturday afternoon.”

I asked, “So what happened Saturday afternoon to change it?”

“Gettin’ ta’ that,” he said then grabbed the sandwich in one hand, took a huge bite and began to chew as he started putting away the makings.

Felicity watched him as he started placing things back into the refrigerator but by the third item was shouldering her way in front of him.

“Go sit down and eat,” she instructed, grabbing the mayonnaise from the center of the top shelf and placing it in the door where it belonged. “It’ll be easier if you just let me do this.”

“I promised I’d do it,” he mumbled as he chewed.

“No, actually you didn’t,” she replied then pointing in the direction of the breakfast nook ordered, “Now, sit, swallow, talk.”

“Okay,” he grunted as he choked down the mouthful then picked up his coffee and headed for the table, adding in a much clearer voice, “Whatever you say.”

“Careful, she likes obedient men,” I joked.

My wife snipped, “He’d take some serious training before I’d call him obedient.”

“Jeez, let’s don’t even go there, you two, okay?” he moaned.

“Then finish what you were telling us,” she urged.

He hastily complied. “So anyway, got some info in from some of the other homicides the NCIC had linked with the two here. Most of ‘em had squat, but turns out a couple of ‘em had even better samples to work with than us. Because of that they had complete DNA profiles.”

“So are you saying they didn’t match with me?” Felicity asked.

“Yes and no.”

“Make sense, Ben,” she said.

“That’s the thing. They cleared you because the full profile was different enough from yours. But, it was still damned close, and dead on with the partial from the other scenes.”

“So that’s why the crack about a sister,” I observed.

“‘Zactly,” he said with a nod. “Lab guy said the profiles are close enough they pretty much have to be siblings. Uncanny kinda close he said. If they had some of your father’s DNA for comparison that’d probably clinch it.”

“Good luck,” I offered. “I doubt Shamus would give it willingly.”