Prologue #4
“Your TOD is about twelve last night. He’s not quite twenty-four hours out, and rigor is in full effect.”
Well, that gave them a timeline.
Now, they just had to find a way to figure out who hated him and opted to shank him in a building without power or security cameras.
“Thanks, Doc,” she said. “I’m going to wander around, and see if maybe whoever shanked the man dropped the knife for us to find. Some fingerprints would be damn helpful. I’ll be in later for ID.”
The man nodded.
“Be careful. You know how this building is sketchy as shit. I wish whoever owned it would just tear it down. I’m damn tired of coming here to pick up a body.”
Mac agreed there.
If they had a dollar for every homeless person that ended up dead in here, they’d be rich. Two months ago, like he’d mentioned, it was a drug-related death not far from this very spot.
Then again, they knew the building was owned by a company in Salt Lake City, and they likely didn’t give two shits about it.
Rich people never did.
They were too busy getting richer.
“I’ll be careful,” she said. “Get the scene processed, and get us what you can. I know DNA is going to take a while. I’m sure the homeless, if we can get them to talk to us, know what happened to Jonathan Miller.”
The man nodded.
He didn’t doubt that.
“On it, Detectives. See you at the morgue for your update,” he said, giving his CSI’s the order to get things handled.
As he did, the two detectives wandered around, looking around, behind, and in things.
There was so much garbage in the building from the homeless coming there to lay low when it rained, snowed, or was just too crappy out.
There were also syringes.
Empty meth bags.
And a plethora of used condoms.
Yeah, this place was a shithole, and the owner wasn’t helping the situation out.
Her partner was to the point.
“I don’t see anything covered in blood that might have been used to stab him. It looked like a normal wound,” Mac said, sipping his coffee while wearing a pair of gloves. “This is probably going to be homeless-on-homeless crime.”
She was aware.
It tended to be a constant when someone from that community turned up dead.
While they wanted to curb it, there was only so much their police force could do.
It was daunting.
Summer was still here, so the homeless got spicy when it was warm. They’d fight over food, supplies, and space.
Who knew why this man died?
It could be a million reasons—including drugs.
They might never solve it either.
As they walked up a set of stairs that had been blocked off by some debris and plywood, Tora and Mac checked out the upper floor.
The building wasn’t huge, but it was big enough that shenanigans could happen up there too.
The old building had once been grand, and now…
It was just a mess.
At the top of the stairs, they found two doors. One of them was closed, and one wasn’t. The one that was locked had shit in front of it, like a barrier.
Someone was trying to make it difficult to get into this room.
But why?
Was someone living in here, copping a squat? If so, she had to get them out of there. Unless they owned this eyesore, they couldn’t trespass here.
Would they stay away?
No.
But she still had to do her job, and now, this was an active crime scene.
This building wasn’t a place where you just moved in. It had once been a manufacturing plant, and was private property. These upper offices had to be for management.
After moving the debris, they saw a thick padlock. It was pricey and big.
“Uh, a lock?” Mac asked.
She nodded.
“Yeah, but why would you lock a room like this?” she asked. “Unless you were living here and had your shit stored inside. Maybe the owners locked it?”
He shrugged.
“I doubt it. No one’s cared about this place for a long-ass time. Why would an owner store things here and then not have the place boarded up?
Yeah, that was a damn good point. The lock would be useless.
“Do you think one of the homeless found a nice place to call home?” he added.
She nodded.
That would be what she put her money on if they were betting on this.
“They can’t stay here. You know the company that owns this place gives the city shit if we don’t control the homeless issue.”
Mac rolled his eyes.
Yeah, poor them.
It must be annoying to hate that the police couldn’t keep the homeless out when it was wide-freaking open.
“Maybe tear down a building that’s in disrepair so that it can’t be used as a meth den for Methany and Methew?” he asked.
She snorted.
It wasn’t like he was wrong.
Ridiculous, yes.
Wrong, no.
Now, she was curious.
“Who broke you?”
Oh, well, he knew that.
It was a damn easy answer.
“The military.”
Well, she didn’t know that for sure, but she suspected her partner was a whole lot of crazy all on his own.
They’d worked together for a year, and she kind of liked that about him.
It was his unpredictability that amused her to no end.
“I’m going to go into this unlocked room, and see if I can get a look into the other room. There are a ledge and windows along the outside.”
He shook his head.
“Is that a good idea? What if you fall?” he asked.
Well, there was a solution to that.
“Then follow me out there, and don’t let me fall from the ledge,” she stated. “Problem solved. You’re supposed to have my back, so have it.”
Mac sighed.
“Since meeting you, I’ve done some questionable shit,” he said. “The list keeps growing.”
That made her laugh.
How could it not?
“Oh, okay, Mr. Pure. I forgot I was talking to a priest,” she said. “All of a sudden, you’re above breaking and entering into what is likely a homeless person’s illegal dwelling, but not having a wild night of kinky sex and then talking about it at work?”
He grinned.
“I mean…”
Tora didn’t let him finish.
This was work, and he didn’t need to be egged on. Then, chaos would follow.
She knew him well.
“Just follow me,” she said, as they stepped out onto the ledge, and made their way toward the windows not far away.
One of them was cracked, and she figured that was how they came and went.
They likely kept the door locked so no one would think it was a homeless person. Instead, it was the company that owned the business. When in actuality, it wasn’t.
Never let it be said the homeless population in Holladay wasn’t clever.
They were.
As they both got down, grateful the ledge was as wide as it was, they lifted the window, and it didn’t move easily. Finally, with some forcing it, the frame creaked open.
That’s when they stuck their heads into the room.
And holy shit.
They got an eyeful.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Mac said, staring in shock and horror. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked.
Tora was horrified.
On one wall, there was a set of shelves, and on each shelf, there was a skull. In the eye sockets, there were eyes staring back at them.
Mismatched.
Eyes.
Across from the shelf, there was a chair, and a little table facing the collection ominously.
Like someone came here to stare at them.
And she knew one thing.
This was her fault for putting it out in the universe.
Yep.
She said she wanted a fun case where she wouldn’t be bored.
Now, she wanted to take it back.
Somehow, she didn’t think this was going to be fun.
At.
All.