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asked.
    She had been withholding this and another file from him, hoping to time their delivery correctly and. sink the hook. Leave it to him to ask, she thought. "Courtesy of the Professor," she explained, referring to the head of the department's forensic sciences unit. She handed the first of the two files to Boldt.
    "He rushed this for me." It was the state lab's preliminary hairs and fibers report. "I used your name," she added reluctantly. She pulled both files to the table top, handing him only the one.
    He opened it and read. The top of the page listed the identification numbers followed by how they had been received, in this case hand-delivered by Sgt. Daphne Matthews, SPD. The next section was divided into two columns: EVIDENCE DESCRIPTION
    and CONCLUSION. Boldt scanned the conclusions. He suggested,
    "Lamoia could handle this."
    She answered quickly, "As good as his instincts are, John is about ten years short on experience and a lifetime short on manners. He just doesn't have the qualifications you do."
    He waved a finger at her. "You're playing with me again. "I
    "Don't you wish," she teased. "Not in your wildest dreams.,, It provoked a grin. "What do you know about my dreams?" he teased right back. "Animal hairs found on her jeans," he said. "We dismiss them. Too common. Blood type O-positive." He rummaged through the other files before him. She filled in, "These other three were also type O-positive." She indicated the stack next to her. "And when you read these medical stories, you'll understand why. Type O is the biggest blood group, the biggest market."
    He glanced up, understanding. "They're all four the same blood type. They select their donors by blood type! That's our lead!"
    "The Professor forwarded the animal hairs to the U-Dub," she said, meaning the University of Washington, "to attempt to identify the particular breeds," "You're getting off track!
    It's the blood group match that's important. Let's stick with that for a minute!"
    "The animal hairs are important too."

    "I can't get too excited over some animal hairs. We all have pets, and if we don't, our friends do. Most of us come in contact with pet hairs on a daily basis."
    "Most of us," she agreed, handing him the last file, "but not Cindy Chapman."
    He started to say something but caught himself and opened the file containing a copy of Cindy Chapman's hospital admission forns. Scanning the contents quickly, he said, "You have been busy."
    "Allergies," she hinted. She watched his eyes track down the form. "Allergic to house pets," he read aloud. "Severe reactions. Shallow breathing, elevated pulse rate." It was how she felt at the moment. "There's no way she would have voluntarily been in a situation that would literally cover her clothing with animal hair."
    "That's good police work, Daffy," he said, complimenting her, but she could sense a reluctance in him. "But ... ?" she said, waiting. "But it's too broad a field. Too difficult to trace."
    "It was the Professor's idea to run them over to the university, not mine. There were some white hairs that sparked his interest."
    "The Professor will run down any hair or fiber. It's his job.
    It doesn't mean it's worth getting excited about."
    She was excited. She hated to admit it. She also hated it when he was right-when he could read her so easily. She had long hours invested in this. She wanted something to show for it.
    How could guys like Lou Boldt stay with an investigation without victories along the way? Miles spit out his pacifier.
    Boldt plugged it back in.
    Boldt said, "I'd say we focus on this blood group overlap.
    That's the closest thing to hard evidence we have, and it isn't much. Animal hairs won't convince Shoswitz you have a case."
    "We have three victims-four, including Cindy," she complained, masking her relief at his use of we, "Unfortunately, we can't choose the evidence these people leave behind."
    "Dixie says each file indicates that there was some physical evidence stored from