Page 33 of Solid as Steele
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Mackenzie led the way into the small OSP outpost, Owen’s footsteps trailing behind her. She didn’t waste a moment but marched over to the reception desk to introduce herself to the female wearing a trooper’s uniform. Mackenzie added that she was a former investigator. That earned her a raised eyebrow but nothing else.
“Is there someone we can talk to about a missing person case and getting some fingerprints done?” Mackenzie made sure to sound polite.
The trooper reacted with a testy flick of her head. “I can help you. Do you want to file a missing person’s report?”
“Not exactly.” Mackenzie shared Owen’s story but didn’t mention the remains found today. “We hoped if you ran his prints, we could find out who he is.”
The trooper’s dark eyebrow went higher. “You’ll need me to open a report for that, which I can do and take your prints, but the only AFIS terminal in the area is at the county jail.”
Mackenzie had expected something like this. A terminal to run prints through the feds’ Automated Fingerprint Identification System was costly, and such a small office and small rural county wouldn’t spend the funds on a terminal if they could go to the jail to use theirs.
“Then let’s get that report going and prints made so you can get them to the jail for processing,” Mackenzie said.
“Have a seat.” The trooper pointed at the chairs by her desk and turned her attention to her computer screen.
Owen pulled the hard wooden chair out for Mackenzie. She gave him a sincere smile. Kind gestures like this and opening her car door earlier were things that gave her hope that they weren’t going to get bad news when it came to his identity.
The trooper began rattling off questions, and they answered the very few that they could.
She shook her head. “The report is so empty it looks like it’s riddled with bullet holes.”
Owen frowned. “We’d give you more information if we had it, but we don’t.”
“Then let’s get these prints done.” She shoved her chair back and went across the room to return with an old-fashioned ink pad and fingerprint cards. “This probably looks archaic to you, after your time as an investigator, but money doesn’t stretch out here to doing electronic prints.”
She slipped the white ten-print card into a holder and came around the desk. “Go ahead and stand next to me and give me your right thumb.”
Owen stood, and she rolled his thumb across the ink pad then pressed and rolled it over the appropriate square on the card. She followed the procedure until all ten digits had been completed, then inked his fingers further down and pressed each hand on the bottom of the card.
“All done.” She slid individually wrapped alcohol wipes across the desk to him. “This should take care of most of the ink, but you’ll also want to wash up in the restroom.”
He scrubbed at his fingers.
“Any idea how long these will take to run?” Mackenzie asked.
“I can’t deliver them to the jail until my supervisor returns. And then they’ll have to run them, but the terminal was down recently. I’m not sure if it’s operational now.”
“Will you call us as soon as you have results?” Owen asked.
“I will if you’re clear, i.e., no outstanding warrants.” She eyed Owen. “Otherwise, one of us will be out to arrest you.”
He frowned. “Where’s the restroom?”
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “All the way to the back.”
When he was out of earshot, the trooper sat on the corner of the desk. “You aren’t staying alone with this man, are you? Because I wouldn’t advise it.”
“I’m not,” Mackenzie said, though she no longer had qualms about doing so. She briefly considered asking the woman to look up Cassie Collins in the database, but Mackenzie didn’t want to raise suspicions, and she also didn’t want to get Deputy Dahl in trouble with the sheriff. Better to wait and call her own sources for the info.
Drying his hands on paper towels, Owen returned. “Thanks for your time. You have my contact info.”
She pinned a pointed gaze on him, likely because they’d had to add Mackenzie’s contact information on the report as Owen didn’t have any. “I do.”
Mackenzie got up to leave and end this trooper’s suspicious looks.
Outside, Owen glanced at her as they walked to her car. “She didn’t like me.”
