4
Speaking with Rowan had calmed Evan’s nerves before he arrived at Sophia’s home. He no longer felt as if he needed to sprint a mile to work off his excess energy.
Their relationship had been the best thing in his life recently. After they had dated for several months, he’d rented out his house and moved into hers. They’d lived together since February, and now it felt like they’d always been together. He often wondered how he’d lived alone for so long.
He’d known Rowan professionally for a few years. They would briefly cross paths when his department used her and Thor to locate lost children or adults. He’d found the tall, blonde woman attractive, but the right moment had never happened—until last summer, when her friend had been murdered and the case landed in Evan’s hands. During that time, he grew close to her parents, her younger twin sisters, and her older brother, Malcolm. But he fell in love with Rowan. Hard.
“Fucking head over heels,” he muttered as he shut his SUV door in front of Sophia McLeod’s house.
I’m a fortunate man.
He shifted his brain into work mode and examined his surroundings. Detective Noelle Marshall’s vehicle blocked the driveway of the small ranch-style house, and three Deschutes County sheriff’s cruisers were across the street along with a forensics team’s minivan. The home was in an older neighborhood on the outskirts of Bend, but there was evidence that young families lived in many of the houses. Bikes, scooters, and several DRIVE AS IF YOUR KIDS LIVE HERE signs dotted the yards.
He knew Sophia had moved into the home recently. Rod had mentioned it around Christmas. He’d received a Christmas email with pictures of her and Zack but hadn’t touched base with her in quite a while.
Probably since I started seeing Rowan.
He hadn’t consciously avoided Sophia; he’d simply not thought of her. Rowan had filled all his available thoughts. He suspected a small part of him was uncomfortable staying in regular contact with a woman he had dated now that Rowan was part of his life. Maybe he’d felt it was disrespectful? But Sophia was like a sister to him, their dating time long in the past. He’d told her all about Rowan when they first got together, and Sophia had shared her disastrous online dating stories with him. It was a long-term, close friendship.
And now there was broken glass and blood in her home.
Concern and regret raced through him again.
I should have returned her call on Thursday.
He tried her cell phone again. Voicemail.
Sophia’s house didn’t have any toys in the yard, but Evan suspected the garage had several bikes belonging to Zack. The twelve-year-old loved anything on two wheels. Years ago Evan had predicted there would be motorcycle arguments in Sophia’s future. As he strode up the driveway, studying the outside of the home and yard, Evan thought about the few weeks when he and Sophia had tried to date. They’d had a nice time, and she was attractive, but he’d never felt that zing in her presence.
Sophia had admitted the same thing.
But that zing hit his chest every time he looked at Rowan. Didn’t matter if she was reading a book or scooping dog poop. When he saw her, he ached to be next to her, touch her. Something about the feel of her skin against his soothed his soul.
Evan greeted the deputy waiting outside the front door and signed the log. As he slipped on booties and gloves, the deputy said he’d find Detective Marshall and the forensics tech in the bathroom. Evan glanced at the doorframe, looking for the forced entry that Noelle had mentioned.
“They broke the glass in the back door,” the deputy said, noticing his gaze.
“Thanks.” Evan stepped inside.
The interior of the home was cool. From the driveway, he’d noticed that tall trees lined the south side of the home, blocking the sun’s most intense heat. Evan appreciated that, but the trees also blocked some natural light, making the house a little dim indoors, even though it appeared every light in the home was on. Voices came from down a hallway to his right, but he headed toward the back of the home, wanting to see the point of entry. He gave a wide berth to several evidence markers on the floor. Each one was positioned by dried drops and smears of blood. He spotted partial shoe prints in the blood and held his foot near one. Either a male or a woman with large feet had made it.
Intruder’s blood? It could be Rod’s or Sophia’s. Or Zack’s.
Bile rose in his throat.
What happened to this family?
He focused on the back door. It was old; its upper half featured a large piece of glass, which had been broken above the doorknob and bolt. The hole was surrounded by jagged points of glass and was plenty big enough for a hand to slip through. Evan shined his flashlight on the glass and leaned close, hoping to see small drops or smears that might be related to the blood on the floor. The shards looked clean. Black fingerprint powder covered the door’s hardware and frame; forensics had already done their job.
He turned to the adjacent kitchen. It was dated. All the appliances except the fridge looked original to the home, which he estimated had been built in the 1980s. The only thing from the current decade was the high-tech espresso machine. Next to that was a fresh bouquet of flowers. Sophia had always had flowers in her home, even before she became a florist. A large, framed photo was on the counter, and Evan stepped closer.
Rod, Ellen, and Sophia smiled at him. It was a candid shot from Sophia’s high school graduation. She stood between her parents, looking up at Rod and laughing. He had been known for his lame dad jokes, and Evan suspected he’d just told one.
How many bad jokes did I hear over the years? A hundred? Two hundred?
Everyone told Rod his jokes were weak, but Rod didn’t care. He’d laugh, slap the person on the back, and tell another.
I’d like to hear one now.
Ellen had a healthy glow in the photo. Her face was still rounded and her eyes full of light. Rod’s hair was salt and pepper instead of the solid gray Evan had seen this morning. The picture was about ten years old, and tucked in one corner of the frame was a recent school photo of Zack, the resemblance between him and eighteen-year-old Sophia readily apparent. More than Evan had ever noticed.
“Her espresso machine is nicer than mine.”
He turned to find Noelle Marshall standing a few feet away. She wore paper foot coverings over her heeled boots and blue vinyl gloves with her navy pantsuit. He was glad the detective was on the case. She was smart and driven, and they made a good team.
“What have you found?” Evan asked, not bothering with small talk. This case needed to be solved.
“First of all, there are no cameras—”
“What?” Surprise filled him. “Her dad was on the force for more than thirty years. He’d insist she have cameras.”
“I have two deputies knocking on neighbors’ doors,” said Noelle. “Hopefully one of the homes has a camera that catches the street or part of this property. I’d guess she hadn’t gotten around to installing cameras yet because she just bought the house a few months ago.”
Evan nodded. “I know.”
“I checked the sales history of the home. It was first purchased in 1982, and Sophia was the next buyer. I guess the original owners never saw any point in remodeling.” She tipped her head at the back door. “No prints on the knob or locks. Must have worn gloves.”
“Premeditated.” Evan’s gut twisted.
“Obviously there is a lot of blood out here—and what looks to be some good shoe prints, but the tech is still working in the bathroom. You’ll want to see this.” She strode toward the hallway and Evan followed, stepping carefully around more evidence markers and blood that led down the hall.
The bathroom door hung awkwardly, only one of its hinges keeping it in place. The hollow door had splintered where a handle should be. Evan spotted the round knob on the floor down the hall.
Someone was determined to get in.
On the floor in the bathroom, a woman was taking blood samples.
Evan sucked in a breath at the numerous smears and dried puddles of blood on the linoleum. More partial shoe prints. Someone had fought for their life. There were red-brown streaks on the side of the tub and the cabinet doors below the counter. Blood flecks dotted the lower part of the wall near an overturned scale.
“It had to be Sophia inside the bathroom,” said Noelle. “I can’t see Rod hiding from an intruder behind a locked door.”
“Most likely,” agreed Evan. “Rod would have confronted them. Probably with a weapon in hand.” The retired detective had feared nothing. It hadn’t always been a good thing. “You knew him?” Evan asked Noelle. He was pretty certain that she had joined Deschutes County after Rod left.
“I met him a few times. He’d already retired, but someone introduced us when he stopped by the department one time. Then I’d bump into him socially with others.”
“At the diner or Ed’s Tavern?” Rod had continued to frequent the law enforcement hangouts after retirement.
“Both. Knew him enough to say hello. I’d heard his wife died but didn’t know he had a daughter and grandson until today.” She watched the tech for a long moment.
“Could Sophia have walked out?” Evan said softly.
“As far as I can tell, there are no smaller bloody shoe or footprints—everything seems too large. Maybe she was carried,” said Noelle. “We need to get a blood spatter expert in here. They can shine a light on what happened.”
“The blood is completely dry,” said the tech, not looking up from her work. “Hard to say when it happened. And the detective is right. You need a spatter specialist. I think there are three different shoe types in the blood, but an expert can read a lot more.”
“Three?” asked Evan. He recognized the tech. Cynthia had worked many of his cases.
Cynthia glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Blood isn’t my area. I know how to accurately document and do some basic reads. I can tell you multiple people were in here ... there might be more than three.”
Evan stared at the floor, not seeing footprints. “Show me one.”
The tech pointed at a large swipe. “See how that swipe ends? I can tell the shoe had small square shapes on the sole, which makes me think of an athletic shoe.”
Now Evan could make out the imprint, which was only three inches long and an inch wide.
Definitely need an expert.
“Did you find anything else of interest in the home?” Evan asked Noelle.
“I’ve only had time to do a quick check,” she said. “But an outside door to the garage on the side of the house was open. Not a lot, just a few inches.”
“Is there a door from the garage into the house?”
“Yes. It was closed when I arrived. I looked around the outside garage door and didn’t see forced entry or signs of bloody footprints. I don’t think anyone got out of here without blood on their shoes or feet, so I’d guess the attackers didn’t go out that way ... although one of them could have come in if it’d been unlocked. Someone’s entry was obviously made through the back door, and the blood on the floor indicates that was an exit.
“I checked the bedrooms,” continued Noelle. “Sophia’s bedroom is the first one. Her cell phone is turned off, but it’s on the nightstand, and the bed is unmade. Her driver’s license is in her purse on a little table near the front door.”
“I assume the cell phone was locked?”
“Yep. I powered it on but couldn’t get any further without a password. There’s a laptop on the desk in her bedroom. Also locked. When I first looked in Zack’s bedroom, I thought there’d been a struggle. But now I think it’s just a typical kid mess.”
“Find the boy’s cell phone in there?”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Could have been Zack in the bathroom,” said Evan in a tight voice. “Maybe both of them.” He shut down his mental image of the two of them fighting off an attacker. “But you said the car is gone ... I’m hoping they got away somehow. Maybe that’s why the side garage door was left open—they could have gotten away on foot.”
“Like you said, she’s a cop’s daughter. She would have gone straight to the police if they got out.”
“True.” His hopes for a positive outcome were shrinking by the second. “I put out a BOLO on her car. The attacker could have taken it. Maybe with Sophia and Zack in it. But that doesn’t explain the blood going out the back door.”
“Maybe the attacker stepped outside for some reason.” Noelle eyed the blood on the floor. “Her knife block on the counter is full. Either he brought his own weapon or found another in a drawer. I saw a couple of small dull-looking ones in a kitchen drawer when I skimmed through.”
“You think it was a knife?” Evan asked, looking at the blood covering the floor.
“No bullet hole in any of the walls or the floor. No shells left behind. With this much blood, something sharp was used if it wasn’t a gunshot.”
Evan gestured for Noelle to follow him out of the bathroom. He didn’t want the tech hearing his next words. Gossip traveled fast. He stopped in the kitchen and turned to Noelle.
“Rod had an entry wound centered on his forehead,” he said in a low voice.
Noelle stared at him for a long second, alarm filling her gaze. “That’s a strong message. Someone had a point to make.”
“I agree. The ME hasn’t confirmed it was the cause of death, but either way, it must have been done deliberately.”
“Any stab wounds?”
Evan grimaced. “I think so. It looked like there could have been a lot of cuts on the body ... but maybe it looked that way because some time had passed. Dr. Lockhart will let us know.”
“Shit. Sophia and Zack could turn up dumped somewhere like her dad,” Noelle said.
The same sickening thought had occurred to Evan. “Did you follow the blood trail beyond the back door?”
“I haven’t had time for a close look,” said Noelle. “I stopped looking for blood at the edge of the small patio; it was hard to see in the bark dust and grass, but I think the general direction was toward the gully that runs behind all these homes. Take a look.” She went to the back door and opened it, carefully stepping around the glass on the floor. From the patio Evan could see several neighbors’ backyards to his left and right.
“There aren’t any fences,” Noelle said with a small shake of her head.
Evan didn’t like it either. Fences offered a small measure of security.
“Her yard flows into the brush that lines the gully.” Noelle pointed to the rear of the property, where he saw a lot of bushes. “I walked to the gully edge. On the far side is a grade school. A chain-link fence surrounds its grounds—probably to keep kids from exploring the gully. Our attacker would have had to go pretty far to the left or right to get around the school’s fence to access the road in front of the school.”
“Or he could have continued down the gully in either direction. He could have come in that way too.”
“It’s a big area.” Noelle sighed. “More units are coming. I’ll start them walking a grid back there. Maybe we’ll find something.”
“Since the intruder came prepared, I suspect he also had a getaway plan,” said Evan. “Maybe a car on the school road. The school is another place to check for cameras. But since it’s Saturday, it might be a little difficult to get a hold of someone from the school district.” He checked the time. “I want to go through Rod’s house. After what we’ve seen here, I want a close look. I had a unit check the property, but it was locked up. I’ll probably have to break some glass like someone did here.”
“Hang on.” Noelle went inside the home and returned thirty seconds later. She dangled a Mickey Mouse key chain on one finger. “I noticed a small bowl of keys in a drawer when I checked the kitchen for knives. Look what it says.”
A printed white label had been placed over Mickey’s face. It read “Dad’s house.” A single key hung on the ring.
Evan closed his fingers around Mickey, memories rising. “Rod used a label maker for everything . There wasn’t a thing in his office that didn’t have one of these damned little white labels on it. Everything had to be neatly in its place and easy to find.” His voice cracked on the last word, his throat tight.
Sympathy flashed in Noelle’s eyes.
Evan thrust the memories away, pulling himself together. “I need to get going. You good here?”
“Yes, the patrol sergeant is on the way. He can supervise the deputies doing the grid, so I can start a more thorough search of the house. I’ve got another forensics tech coming too.”
“I’ll let you know what I find at Rod’s,” said Evan, and headed toward the front door. His stomach churned. The labeled key chain had affected him more than the photo on the counter. He’d been caught off guard by the little embodiment of a big piece of Rod’s personality.
I’ve got to find who did this.