Scene 8 – The Lavender Mistake

       The fluorescent hum of the bullpen had died hours ago, leaving only the soft pool of light spilling from a single desk lamp. The murder board stood at the center of it—photographs, notes, and printouts papering the cork wall like a half-solved equation. Gina Bauer and Detective Valdez stood shoulder to shoulder, both staring at the same wall of unanswered questions.
       “Whoever did it knew exactly what they were buying,” Valdez said quietly. “That much opioid—pure enough to stop a heart in seconds—doesn’t come easy.”
       Gina’s eyes didn’t leave the board. “Yeah. You’d need a medical connection… or someone who still knows where to find the hard stuff. Somebody who can make the right call.”
       They both fell silent, the air thick with thought. The quiet broke with a knock at the glass door. A CSU tech stepped in, holding a manila envelope.
       “Fresh pull from archives you need to see,” the tech said. “Pediatric medical record.”
       Gina took the envelope and slipped the document free. 

Allergen: Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia)
Symptoms: Contact dermatitis
Severity: Severe – lifelong precaution advised.        Valdez frowned. “Lavender? The whole bathroom reeked of it.”

       “Yeah,” Gina murmured. “And she’s been allergic since she was a kid. We already knew the bath was staged, but this confirms it.” She paused, her brow furrowed. “Still… why lavender? Who would bring that to a murder?”
       Valdez shook his head. “Doesn’t track.”
       Gina reached for her phone and pulled up her contacts.
       Nathan Reid answered after two rings, his voice rough with sleep.
“Detective?”
       “Mr. Reid,” Gina said, “why would Lena keep lavender oil in her house?”
       “Oh, that?” Nathan’s tone warmed, a touch of memory in it. “She used it to keep spiders out. Sprayed it under the windows and under the sinks—said they wouldn’t cross it. Kind of ironic, actually. She was allergic to the stuff. Always wore gloves when she used it.”
       “Thank you,” Gina said softly, and hung up.
       For a long moment, neither detective spoke. Valdez leaned back, hands on his hips. “So the killer stages a calming bath, sees the lavender oil, and figures it’s part of her nightly routine.”
       “Right,” Gina said. “They didn’t know.”
       She stared at the murder board again, her gaze traveling across the evidence, piecing together what her gut already knew. Then, suddenly, she stopped. The silence in the room seemed to stretch around her.
       “I know who the killer is,” she whispered.

New Clues Added: Victim’s pediatric medical record