Chapter 11 - The Missing Red Cast
The mention of the missing red dental mold hung in the air like a physical weight. Leo stared across the metal table at Detective Miller, the chill of the mortuary lab returning to settle over his skin.
"Empty?" Leo repeated, his brow furrowing. "The alley was completely cordoned off within minutes of our escape. No one else was out there. How could a solid plaster cast just vanish from a sealed drain?"
"That's what my crime scene unit would like to know," Detective Miller said, tapping a pen against the manila folder. "The storm grate was locked from the inside, and the runoff pipe leads directly to the municipal water treatment plant two miles away. Unless someone fished it out before our units arrived, it should have been trapped in the catchment basin."
"Dr. Harrison," Leo said, realization dawning with sudden clarity. "When we were fighting in the alley, before you officers arrived—he knew where the mold was. He must have kicked it into a secondary runoff channel while we were distracted."
Detective Miller shook his head slowly. "Dr. Harrison has been in holding since we brought him in. He hasn't spoken a single word to his interrogators, let alone given instructions on how to retrieve evidence. Furthermore, his hands were restrained immediately upon arrest. He couldn't have gone back for it."
"Then who did?" Leo asked, a cold knot tightening in his stomach.
Before Detective Miller could answer, the interrogation room door swung open abruptly. A young officer rushed in, breathless and wide-eyed, holding a clear plastic evidence bag containing a damp, muddy object.
"Sir, you need to see this," the officer said, placing the bag gently onto the metal table between them. "We just received a package at the front desk. Dropped off by an anonymous courier less than ten minutes ago."
Leo and Detective Miller both leaned in to inspect the contents of the bag. Inside lay a damp, fractured plaster cast—the bloody red dental mold. But the surface had been freshly altered. Someone had used a fine-point chisel to carve a new set of initials directly into the hardened crimson plaster.
Leo stared at the carved letters, his breath catching in his throat. The initials weren't Dr. Harrison’s. They were Chloe’s.
"This was left at the front desk?" Detective Miller asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he looked up at the young officer. "Who brought it in? Did security catch a face on the street cameras?"
The officer swallowed hard, glancing nervously at Leo before answering. "That's the terrifying part, sir. The street camera outside the lobby captured the courier walking up to the front desk. But when we enhanced the footage... the person dropping off the package wasn't a stranger."
Detective Miller stood up sharply, his chair scraping loudly against the concrete floor. "Who was it?"
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The officer hesitated, his voice trembling slightly. "It was Chloe Harrison. Walking through the front lobby, wearing her blue t-shirt with the skull logo, smiling directly at the security camera."
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