01.02.2023 Views

A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

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But the longer he stares at those pictures, he sees.

“The DNA test, Leo,” he says, “was conclusive. The DNA test

confirmed that she’s Delilah. DNA tests don’t lie.”

That is a major question mark. Because DNA tests almost always

get it right. There are rare errors that can be chalked up to the quality

of the sample or the way the sample was handled, or the results

interpreted.

We go to the police station. With you in another room, Dad corners

the lady cop and one of her henchmen. He shows her the pictures.

She’s dismissive at first. “You can’t just think she’d look the exact

same as she did when she was six. People change, Josh. They grow

up. That baby fat disappears and features become more defined.

That’s all that’s happening here.”

She ascribes Dad’s fears to some form of PTSD, thinking that after

all these years of missing Delilah, he has anxiety over losing her

again.

It’s not that simple. I printed out the articles online that say cleft

chins don’t just vanish; they’re here for life. She reads the article and

her face goes white.

“What if the DNA test got it wrong?” Dad asks.

“DNA tests are lauded as extremely reliable, almost one hundred

percent.”

“I’d like to see those results,” Dad says, thinking the lab fucked up.

There are things called a false positive and a coincidental match.

The lady cop doesn’t move. She holds stock-still.

“Carmen?” he asks. “I’d like to see the results, please.” Though

why, I don’t know, because it’s not like Dad, an investment banker,

can make heads or tails of a DNA report.

“I can get it,” the henchman says.

“No,” the lady cop says quickly. “Let me.” She walks away. Dad’s

eyes follow her. She’s not that bad-looking, for an older lady. Like

Dad, she’s got to be pushing fifty, though she takes better care of

herself than Dad does. She looks like she works out, eats healthy

and all that. Under her clothes, she’s probably ripped.

When she comes back, she’s shaking her head. Her hands are

empty. She says decisively, “It wasn’t there.”

“Ma’am?” the henchman asks.

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