as a cop with good instincts. That carried some weight with her fellow officers. Go figure. How exactly were good instincts different from the energy she felt emanating off of people? She guessed presentation was always half the battle.
Elise’s instincts told her that Aimee Gannon was okay. There was some private pain under that smooth, calm surface that Elise could sense. She had a hunch that Josh would have more luck in that department. It would take a little heat to melt that icy veneer, but she had faith in her partner. She was pretty sure he could bring the heat when he wanted to.
And she was pretty sure he wanted to. It wasn’t like Josh to be willing to take a babysitting run. He could have sent a uniform with Aimee and Marian to the Dawkin home.
The phone on her desk rang. “Hey, Elise,” Clyde Owen said.
“Yeah?” she answered the crime lab tech. “What you got?”
“The duct tape on your victims? It’s all contiguous.”
Another un-surprise. Most murderers didn’t stop to patch up the air-conditioning unit between binding up their victims. “Thanks, Clyde.” She started to hang up.
“Here’s the interesting part, though,” Clyde said. “The first piece of tape off the roll matches a piece that was used to patch the desk chair in the victim’s study.”
Elise stopped. “Really?”
“Yeah. So I figure the duct tape must have already been in the study, and the murderer used what was handy. Same way he used the lamp and the cord. They were there, right? He didn’t bring the lamp with him.”
“So you’re saying it was spontaneous. He didn’t plan it.” Was it possible that whoever had done this hadn’t thought it out first? That something or someone had suddenly enraged them enough to suddenly turn unspeakably violent? What could possibly do that? Money and sex were generally the first two answers on the list. What had been going on in that house under its placid suburban exterior?
“But that doesn’t fit with the glove thing,” Clyde continued.
“I didn’t realize there was a glove thing.” Elise waited for Clyde to finish processing his thoughts. It didn’t pay to rush him. With Clyde, it was best to let the choo-choo train go all the way around the track without interrupting its journey.
“Yeah. There were no fingerprints on the tape, except for the victim’s fingerprints on the tape that patched his chair. Whoever taped those people up like that had to have been wearing gloves. Halpern told me that the stuff he found under the female vic’s fingernails was latex. It could be consistent with her trying to get away from someone wearing latex gloves. Not much of a lead—you can buy those things in any drugstore in town.”
“You never know what might help. Thanks, Clyde.” Elise hung up and pondered that particular conundrum. If the murderer came to the house not intending to do any harm, why did he have gloves handy? Maybe it was somebody with some weird germ phobia? It definitely was something that they should keep in mind.
Elise stared at the photos of Stacey Dawkin lying facedown on her living room floor. Whoever had killed her hadn’t come to her house planning on murder. That seemed pretty certain. But from those multiple ligature marks on Stacey’s throat, Elise was pretty sure that the murderer had started to enjoy it.
She hoped they found the bastard before he decided to throw himself another little party where the guests would never go home.
CHAPTER 5
J osh parked in front of the Dawkins’ house. The television crews had trampled the hell out of the lawn, but except for that and the yellow crime scene tape across the front door, it looked like all of the other single-family homes in the neighborhood—big, solid, and costly. He got out and Marian Phillips and Aimee Gannon stepped onto the curb next to him.
Gannon’s dark hair was down today, lying thick around her shoulders. Her eyes, no longer shielded by the black-framed glasses, looked as weary
Elise’s instincts told her that Aimee Gannon was okay. There was some private pain under that smooth, calm surface that Elise could sense. She had a hunch that Josh would have more luck in that department. It would take a little heat to melt that icy veneer, but she had faith in her partner. She was pretty sure he could bring the heat when he wanted to.
And she was pretty sure he wanted to. It wasn’t like Josh to be willing to take a babysitting run. He could have sent a uniform with Aimee and Marian to the Dawkin home.
The phone on her desk rang. “Hey, Elise,” Clyde Owen said.
“Yeah?” she answered the crime lab tech. “What you got?”
“The duct tape on your victims? It’s all contiguous.”
Another un-surprise. Most murderers didn’t stop to patch up the air-conditioning unit between binding up their victims. “Thanks, Clyde.” She started to hang up.
“Here’s the interesting part, though,” Clyde said. “The first piece of tape off the roll matches a piece that was used to patch the desk chair in the victim’s study.”
Elise stopped. “Really?”
“Yeah. So I figure the duct tape must have already been in the study, and the murderer used what was handy. Same way he used the lamp and the cord. They were there, right? He didn’t bring the lamp with him.”
“So you’re saying it was spontaneous. He didn’t plan it.” Was it possible that whoever had done this hadn’t thought it out first? That something or someone had suddenly enraged them enough to suddenly turn unspeakably violent? What could possibly do that? Money and sex were generally the first two answers on the list. What had been going on in that house under its placid suburban exterior?
“But that doesn’t fit with the glove thing,” Clyde continued.
“I didn’t realize there was a glove thing.” Elise waited for Clyde to finish processing his thoughts. It didn’t pay to rush him. With Clyde, it was best to let the choo-choo train go all the way around the track without interrupting its journey.
“Yeah. There were no fingerprints on the tape, except for the victim’s fingerprints on the tape that patched his chair. Whoever taped those people up like that had to have been wearing gloves. Halpern told me that the stuff he found under the female vic’s fingernails was latex. It could be consistent with her trying to get away from someone wearing latex gloves. Not much of a lead—you can buy those things in any drugstore in town.”
“You never know what might help. Thanks, Clyde.” Elise hung up and pondered that particular conundrum. If the murderer came to the house not intending to do any harm, why did he have gloves handy? Maybe it was somebody with some weird germ phobia? It definitely was something that they should keep in mind.
Elise stared at the photos of Stacey Dawkin lying facedown on her living room floor. Whoever had killed her hadn’t come to her house planning on murder. That seemed pretty certain. But from those multiple ligature marks on Stacey’s throat, Elise was pretty sure that the murderer had started to enjoy it.
She hoped they found the bastard before he decided to throw himself another little party where the guests would never go home.
CHAPTER 5
J osh parked in front of the Dawkins’ house. The television crews had trampled the hell out of the lawn, but except for that and the yellow crime scene tape across the front door, it looked like all of the other single-family homes in the neighborhood—big, solid, and costly. He got out and Marian Phillips and Aimee Gannon stepped onto the curb next to him.
Gannon’s dark hair was down today, lying thick around her shoulders. Her eyes, no longer shielded by the black-framed glasses, looked as weary
Similar Books
