“The canvas bag,” she said to the male tech. “Has it been photographed?”

The man checked his tablet. “It has,” he said.

“What about the contents inside?”

“Just pictures of what we can see. We haven’t searched through it yet.”

Ellie turned to Kelly and said, “Sir, with your permission, I’d like to reach into the bag.”

Kelly nodded, then told the tech to document the process—including video. The tech held up his tablet and then recorded Ellie as she carefully dipped a gloved hand inside the bag, with its neatly folded towel and change of clothes and a couple of paperback books, as well as a clear bag holding processed and ready-to-eat food like meal-replacement bars and nuts.

When she stood, she had, pinched between her fingers, what at first glance looked like the kind of small flashlight people tossed into a glove compartment or a cabinet underneath a kitchen sink. Only the black metal tube she was holding didn’t have a bulb, and it was small enough to conceal in your palm.

“Do you recognize this, sir?”

Kelly shook his head. The tech didn’t answer, either, too busy recording.

“This was originally developed for diabetics to get blood glucose levels,” Ellie said. “The army had it modified so blood types could be determined on the battlefield, in order to speed along the process of an emergency transfusion. You press the button on the end here with your thumb and a very fine needle ejects and pierces the skin so fast that most people don’t even realize they’ve been pricked. It only takes a few seconds to get a result. It flashes on the small LED screen right here on the side.”

Kelly was looking at her with avid interest—and some skepticism, too, she thought.

“Word on the street,” Ellie said, “is that these devices have been modified to identify the proteins in carrier blood—within seconds, from what I’ve heard.” She returned the item to its original place inside the bag.

Kelly thanked the tech, his tone leaving no doubt that the man should leave and get back to work.

Then she was alone with Kelly again.

“That injector,” he said. “How do you know about it?”

Ellie had learned early on that there was nothing more dangerous to a powerful man than a woman who, intentionally or not, made him feel stupid or inferior.

“I do a lot of reading,” Ellie said. “And I visit a lot of blood chat rooms on the deep web. There are a lot of theories out there—”

“Thank you for your help, Officer Batista. And I’m sorry about the loss of your partner.” Kelly seemed to genuinely mean it.

“Sir, the two vics inside the house—have they been identified?”

“Not yet. Thank you—you’re dismissed.” Kelly left toward the house.

Ellie saw her opportunity. It was risky, but she might not get it again.

“Sir, with your permission, I’d like to see them. I didn’t get a close-up look the first time I was in there, when I was clearing the house.”