There is no heart for me like yours.
Maya Angelou
Sarah and Pete had finally finished running the blood sample and they were sat at Sarah’s desk ready to compare the results on her computer screen. It was the early hours of the morning and Sarah’s eyes felt gritty with tiredness. She scrolled down the screen to find the results from the original crime scene to compare against the new one when a name caught her eye.
‘Harris.’
Pete noticed her frowning at the screen.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What was the name of the guy, the drug dealer or whatever he is who put a price on the Reiver’s head?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“Harris, Gordon Harris, why?”
“There was a victim of the massacre called Paul Harris, his DNA profile is here, I tested it myself. Maybe they are related?” she looked at Pete questioningly.
