Chapter 3 #2
“Here we go,” I said, running my fingers carefully along the back of his skull. “Looks like blunt force trauma to the occipital. Multiple impact points.” I took photographs and collected tissue samples.
“I guess that explains our missing ten-pound weight,” Jack said.
“That would certainly do it,” I said. “It wouldn’t take much force to do this kind of damage. He’d most likely be incapacitated after the first hit. After multiple hits, the damage would be fatal.”
Jack made sure I was steady with the body, and then got up to look under the bed. Then he checked dresser drawers and looked behind the furniture. “There’s no sign of the weight. Or any weapon for that matter. But this guy could teach lessons in drawer organization.”
“Can’t be too easy to walk around with a bloody weight in your hand,” I said.
“I’ll have Plank grab a couple of officers and do a canvass for a couple of blocks, check the dumpsters and alleyways.”
“I’ll be able to give you the exact number and hits once I get x-rays. But I can feel at least three distinct impact points.”
“That’s a lot of pent-up rage, to keep hitting a man while he’s down.”
I checked lividity while I had him on his side—the blood had settled and fixed along his back, buttocks, and along the backs of his legs.
“He looks good except for having his skull bashed in,” I said.
“No other marks or contusions. He didn’t put up a fight.
From the outside, he’s a healthy thirty-four-year-old man. ”
I took a temperature probe from my bag and took his core temp. “Looks like TOD was somewhere between midnight and two in the morning.”
“Maybe this will be an easy one,” Jack said. “Can’t be too much traffic in the building or around the perimeter at that time.”
“Here’s hoping,” I said. “I think I decided on a paint color for the nursery.”
If Jack was caught off guard by the change in subject, he didn’t let on. “Oh yeah?”
“Green is a neutral color, right? Not like the color of grass. Like moss.”
“Yeah, that’s neutral,” he said. “Or we could just find out the sex.”
“What fun is that?” I asked.
“Right,” he said. “Do I want to know what thought process led you to deciding on a nursery color?”
“Probably not,” I said, putting everything back in my bag. “I’ve done all I can do on him for now. Lily and Sheldon should be here soon for transport. I’ll have more for you after the autopsy.”
“I’ll get the warrant moving for the cameras,” Jack said. “Derby is already on-site. Other than the resident hallways we should have pretty good coverage.”
He took one more look at Wade Rivers. “I can understand the knife to his groin. That’s a scorned lover or jealous husband play. But what about the flag?”
“I don’t know,” I said, stripping off my gloves and putting on a fresh pair.
“Could be political. Could be personal. Could be somebody who wanted to make a point in the days leading up to the country’s 250th and this was their canvas.
” I looked at him. “Could also be completely unrelated to the holiday and we’d be chasing our tails assuming otherwise. ”
“Where are his clothes?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“He’s naked,” Jack said.
“Believe me, I noticed.”
He went into the master bathroom and I followed behind him. It was just like the rest of the condo. Spotless. Barely lived in. At least from the surface.
“Dude had issues,” I said. “I’ve never seen a man so clean.”
“I’m clean,” he said.
“Yeah, but you leave your stuff on the nightstand and leave dishes in the sink.”
“That’s because I cook and you clean.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, touching the edge of one of the perfectly hung towels on the rod on the wall. There was nothing on the counter and no soap scum on the shower door. “We live in our house.”
“Yeah, this guy was a robot,” he agreed, opening the linen closet. There were more perfectly folded towels, a scale, various soaps and lotions lined in another organizer, and hair products. And at the bottom of the closet was a box. It was the most out of place thing we’d seen.
He leaned down and opened the box, and inside were an assortment of women’s products—everything from makeup to tampons to birth control pills.
“Guess he didn’t feel like organizing this one,” I said, looking at the jumble of products.
“Must be hard living with someone if you expect things to be perfect,” he said. “Check out the closet.”
I moved to the attached walk-in closet and whistled. “How does a Pilates instructor have more clothes and shoes than I do?”
“To be fair,” Jack said, eyeing the rows of color-coded shirts and jeans, “that doesn’t take too much effort.”
“Her clothes are here,” I said, pointing to the small section of hangered clothes. I skimmed my fingers across a short leather skirt, expensive jeans, and revealing tops. “I guess Jessica was right about Paige dressing to entice. Not much left to the imagination dressed in these.”
“Either he organized them for her, or he taught her well.”
There was a built-in chest of drawers below Paige’s clothes. Here were sweaters and loungewear, along with three sets of scrubs. The bottom drawer was filled with lingerie. I held up a particularly confusing scrap of lace that looked like a spiderweb and then dropped it back in the drawer.
“Maybe the missing panties are hers,” I said. “They seem to be of the same taste. There’s no normal underwear in here. How does she go to work with something like that in all her crevices?”
“The mysteries of women never cease to amaze me,” Jack said.
“That makes two of us,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. I’m curious to meet her. Maybe I’ll ask her how she gets that thing on.”
“If you do, you have to let me buy one for you.”
“Never mind. I’ll just ask the internet. It knows everything.”