F ingers of gray light crept through my window and across the bedroom floor. Outside and below I could hear the small voices of morning: a door slamming, then a garbage truck as it moved through an alley. I thought about getting up, maybe a cup of coffee and the paper. The truck shifted gears and moved off, its rumble drifting me back to sleep. Then the phone rang. Caller ID said ILLINOIS STATE POLICE LAB. I picked up on the third ring.
“Hello.”
“Michael, it’s Nicole. Did I wake you up?”
“Just getting up. Why are you down there so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep last night, so I came down to the lab. Thought I’d work on your samples before anyone else got in.”
“Probably not a bad idea.”
“Definitely not.”
“Why?”
“We got a profile.”
“From Elaine’s shirt?”
“Yes.”
I could feel a tingle at the back of my neck and a bit of heat moving up toward my temples.
“Can you identify it?”
“I ran it through CODIS at a little after three this morning. Got a match.”
I was already half-dressed and reached for a pen and paper.
“I’m on my way. Give me the name of the guy.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“How do you mean?”
“Remember last night when I told you about Jennifer?”
“You didn’t tell me anything about Jennifer.”
“Yeah, well, all the stuff I didn’t tell you about, it just got a whole lot worse.”
“Because of Elaine’s shirt?”
“Michael, you better get down here. Right now.”