CHAPTER SIX
“YOU READY?” MIKE, ONE of the techs, asked her.
“Just about,” Kim answered, twisting her shoulder-length hair up into a bun and securing it so it would be out of her way. It was ten a.m., and Kim was about to climb up into the small cupola space again. She took the time to carefully measure the footprint closest to the stairs and photograph it before she herself stepped up onto the landing.
She got another clear shot of it from directly above it, grabbed tweezers and a tiny vial and collected a piece of the strange rubbery residue she noticed in the print’s treads, then repeated the entire process with the other footprint further away from the stairs.
Then Kim turned her attention to the casing she’d spotted the evening before. She carefully placed a number card beside the
