“Nope.”
Sean looked around the bedroom again. “Pretty basic,” he said. “Not a lot here.”
He walked back through the house, noting a conspicuous absence of anything that would indicate a male presence. No razors on the sink or man-size shoes kicking around. No beer in the fridge. The living room was simply furnished with a sofa, a coffee table, and a smallish TV.
“Looks to me like she lives alone,” Ric said, turning to Jasper. “You say she works at a restaurant?”
“Coffee shop, according to the neighbor lady.” Jasper took out a spiral pad and consulted his notes. “Java House over on Elm Street.”
“I’ve never been in there.” Ric looked at Sean. “You?”
“Nope.”
Sean glanced around the living room, which was devoid of clutter. Maybe the victim didn’t have a lot of money for extras, but even so, most women tended to decorate their homes more than this. Sean hadn’t spotted a single framed photo in the entire place.
The strobe of a camera flash drew his attention into the kitchen again. Brooke was right. This scene seemed odd. Sean had worked a lot of homicides over the years, and most boiled down to money, drugs, or sex.
Sean had seen no sign of sexual assault. No drugs or drug paraphernalia or even alcohol. No hint of illegal activity. No evidence of a boyfriend.
A remote control sat on the coffee table. Sean had watched Brooke in action enough to know it would be one of the first items she collected to dust for prints.
“I don’t see any blood trails or signs of struggle inside,” Ric said. “Doesn’t feel like the assailant was in the house.”
“I’m not getting a read on motive.”
“I know.” Ric shook his head. “Doesn’t look like a rape or a robbery. No cash or drugs around.”
“We need her phone. I want to search her car and the surrounding area.”
“I’ll go check the car,” Ric said.
He exited the front, and Sean returned to the kitchen. Brooke wasn’t there. Maddie knelt in the pantry with her camera, and Sean noticed the pantry door was missing.
“What happened to the door?”
She glanced at him. “Brooke took it.”
“Took it where?”
“Back to the lab.”
Sean stared at her. “You mean she’s gone?”
“She needed to test something. She said it was urgent.”
“Yo, Sean, come here,” Ric called from outside.
Sean walked out the front, glancing at his watch. Why had she left already? This scene would take hours to process, and they were just getting started.
Ric was in the driveway near the Kia. Another Delphi CSI in gray coveralls crouched beside the car.
Ric looked up at Sean. “Jackpot.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author LAURA GRIFFIN is the author of the Tracers series, the Alpha Crew series, the Moreno & Hart series, and several other novels. A two-time RITA Award winner and a recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award, she lives in Austin, Texas, where she is working on her next book. Visit her at LauraGriffin.com and Facebook.com/LauraGriffinAuthor.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Laura-Griffin
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ALSO BY LAURA GRIFFIN
Alpha Crew: The Mission Begins
At Close Range
Deep Dark
Shadow Fall
Beyond Limits
Far Gone
Exposed
Scorched
Twisted
Unstoppable
Snapped
Unforgivable
Deadly Promises
Unspeakable
Untraceable
Whisper of Warning
Thread of Fear
One Wrong Step
One Last Breath
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by Laura Griffin
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition September 2017
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ISBN 978-1-5011-6245-9
Cover of Night Page 16
