While the Special Agent went off to advise his underlings about her involvement in the investigation, as well as their own personal involvement, Rachele went over to a table where evidence was being collected in little evidence bags. Most of the debris was charred and blackened, and ranged from the little notebooks he used to carry, which mostly just contained little notes about the day, reminders and observations, normally nothing of consequence. He had a proper journal, which she had seen several times in his hands, but it wasn't here on the table.
However she did see something that made her catch her breath. His cell phone.
He always chose to get a white smartphone, whenever the time came to get a replacement. But what she saw was a twisted, melted, black and grey mess. The bottom half had curled around itself. Oddly though the top half was burned on the front, but the back seemed perfectly fine, practically untouched. She took out her pen and lifted it to be sure.
There it was. The back cover, the camera lens, the flash LED, all perfectly preserved.
She waved to one of the lab techs to come over.
"Hey, the back of this doesn't look too bad," she said to the young man. "Can you get the SIM card out? Maybe we could get the call history."
Excited at the idea the young man pulled out a pocket knife and started to pry the back off the little phone. There were parts stuck together and melted together, but he continued to work at it till the back cover broke.
He carefully slid the little card out, then set the phone behind to stick the SIM, which looked like it was in great shape, all things considered.
Rachele watched as the young lab geek slid the SIM into his tablet, and started pulling up data, but what she was actually seeking out was.
She had other plans though. While the attention was on the tech, she surreptitiously took the damaged phone and slid out the micro SD card, where things like photos and video would be saved. She'd hoped there would be some kind of clue as to what happened.
"Huh," said the tech. "How did you know?"
Rachele looked at him distractedly. "Hm? Know what?" she asked, sliding the SD card into her jacket pocket.
"About the Goatshead Motorcycle club?" he said. "I cross referenced the call history with a list of known Goatsheads, and found he called someone called Eugene David Theodore, known to his friends as Big Dave, and member of the Goatsheads."
It took a moment for what he was saying to sink in. "You're kidding."
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