The Incumbent by Alton L. Gansky Page B

The bottom had fourteen squares: one for each digit, two larger squares for impressions of all four fingers of each hand together, and two narrow squares for additional thumbprints. Webb wanted to update to a digital system than took prints electronically, but there wasn’t room in the budget. It was another bone of contention.
    It took less than sixty seconds. Dell pulled the card from its holder and handed it to me. “There you go, Mayor, a souvenir. You want me to autograph it for you?”
    “That’s all right, Frank,” West said with a laugh. “Thanks for the demonstration.”
    “My pleasure.”
    I thanked Dell and let West lead me from the room. “Let’s go into the conference room,” he said softly as we crossed back into the office area. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
    “I’m fine, thanks.”
    “No, you’re not. You want coffee.” I started to object but he cut me off. “We don’t offer coffee to suspects. Take the coffee and people are less likely to ask questions.”
    “With cream, please.”
    A few moments later we sat at a white oak conference table. A half-dozen cheap chairs were sitting at odd angles around it. The conference room adjoins the office area.
    “I’ll take that.” West gently pulled the fingerprint card from my hand. I surrendered it without protest. “I appreciate you taking the time to do this, and doing it so quickly.”
    “I’m eager to help in any way I can. My aide will bring the bank reports you requested a little later. She’s compiling them now.”
    “As I said before, I’m trying to be thorough. I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
    “It’s too late for that,” I said, more harshly than I intended.
    “How do you mean?”
    “I think Celeste is suspicious of me.”
    “Understandable. She seems like a sharp young lady.”
    “Excuse me?”
    West realized what he had said. “I don’t mean she’s right in suspecting you, only that she would naturally have to wonder why the blood was on your card, and so many others were discarded. It’s an important question. One we would all like to have answered—including you.”
    “I’m afraid she’ll leave. That’s her right, I know. Legally she is an adult. I can’t tell her what to do or not to do. I’m just worried about her.”
    “You think she’ll be gone when you get home?”
    “Maybe. I’m supposed to have lunch with her. I’ll know at eleven-thirty if she’s decided to go elsewhere.”
    West frowned. “It’s important that we know where she is.”
    “If she leaves, I’ll let you know.”
    “Thanks.”
    “What now?” I felt awkward.
    “We keep on keeping on.” West took a sip from his cup, then made a face. “Your coffee was better. Anyway, we push on. I’ll fill in the information on the card and pass it on to the lab. If your prints don’t match those found at the scene, then you’re clear. There’s a chance a tech will recognize your name, but it’s the best I can do.”
    “Won’t you need sample prints from Celeste, too?”
    “Maybe. We took prints from other places in the house where it’s unlikely perps would go, bathrooms and the like. We should find a large number of her prints in the house, as well as her mother’s. We’re looking for those that don’t fit.”
    “Do you think you’ll find anything?”
    “No. Whoever did this was meticulous. I doubt any prints were left behind.”
    “Then why bother . . . I know, I know, you’re just being thorough.”
    “Exactly.” He lowered his eyes, then looked up. “I’ve been thinking about this whole card thing. The real question is, why you? Why your card? We don’t have an answer to that, but one thing we do know: someone wants you involved. Is it a setup? Maybe, but I think it’s more. I just don’t know what.”
    “I have no idea, either.”
    “I think you should be careful whom you trust. Two things connect you to this case: Lisa, the missing person, and your blood-decorated business card. I don’t want