Chapter 14
The blood was frozen, streaking the freshly fallen powder like a glass of red wine on new carpet. Sean had told Roger to walk carefully back toward the rooftop door.
“That’s blood, right?” Roger asked.
Sean nodded, and he had to think of his next steps carefully. His first thought was that there might be a body buried underneath, and his next thought terrified him because he wasn’t sure if it was Karla the bride or Karla the child.
“Someone died up here,” Roger said.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Sean replied. “I need you to bring me some shovels or anything that can help me move the snow.”
“Yeah, sure,” Roger said, and then he turned toward the door, but stopped himself and spun around again. “Do I tell anyone?”
“No,” Sean answered. “Not until I confirm what’s up here. Or what’s not up here.”
“Right,” Roger said, and then he grumbled something to himself as he disappeared back into the hotel.
Sean hadn’t moved since he’d found the blood, wanting to ensure he thought through his next steps carefully. He glanced around the roof. There was a lot of space, more than he could search on his own. And there was no way he’d be able to shovel the entire roof by himself.
But he probably didn’t need to.
Sean stepped back and examined the blood in the snow more closely. The pink colored snow didn’t appear until about a foot deep. So, Sean carefully stepped around the spot of blood he’d found and slowly widened his circle until there was no more blood to be found.
When Sean finished, the outline of the blood-soaked snow formed a teardrop, with the tip reaching the edge of the roof overlooking the front entrance.
With the outline of the blood stain complete, all Sean had to do now was see what else was buried underneath.
Roger returned with only one shovel, but Sean didn’t mind. If a body was buried under the snow, Sean thought it best to do the work to minimize any contamination of the crime scene.
Sean slowly went to work, carefully removing the snow a few inches at a time, working outward and inward. He made sure to never go further than halfway down into the blood-soaked layer of snow, which was only a few inches thick.
It was slow, tedious work, and when Sean finally reached the center of the bloodstain, where it was thickest and darkest, he found no body.
Because of the blood’s mixture into the snow, it was difficult to tell how long it had been here. Sean wasn’t a coroner, but he had watched enough autopsies to pick up a few things. What concerned him most was the volume of blood soaked into the snow.
Given the size of the bloodstain, which measured roughly eight by ten feet, the victim had clearly lost several pints. It was more than enough to kill someone, especially a child.
Sean wouldn’t know for sure whose blood it was until a forensic test was done, and since they were snowed in, there was no timeline for the result.
Sean snapped a few pictures of the scene with his phone, then took a minute to scour the area around the bloodstain for anything unusual. Outside, alone, Sean had plenty of space to think, which was the majority of Sean’s work.
Contrary to the movies, most police work was very boring. Paperwork, phone calls, interviews, and a lot of time chasing down leads made up the bulk of his job.
But moments like this, when Sean was thrust into the hidden violence of the world and the scaly underbelly of society was exposed, made him nervous.
Not because he lacked the confidence to solve it, but because there was no longer any doubt in his mind that at least one of the missing Karlas would be found dead.
And that meant a harrowing conversation with the victim’s family.
In Sean’s years of law enforcement, he’d had more of those unfortunate conversations than he’d like to admit. And even after all this time, it only got harder, not easier. Because he knew what was coming: the tears, the anger, the confusion, the doubt, the guilt.
Sometimes it was directed at him. Other times it was in general, but it was always there.
Unable to find any other evidence, Sean returned to the hotel and descended the stairs into the hallway off of the main lobby.
The space was empty, but as Sean turned toward the hallway leading to the guest rooms, he saw Jennie moving toward him. And the moment he saw her face, he knew something was wrong.
Sean rushed to Jennie, reaching her before she set foot in the lobby. Her cheeks were pale, and she clutched Sean’s wrists, leaning against him for support.
“What happened?” Sean asked.
“I found something,” Jennie answered, whispering. “In our room.”
“What?” Sean asked.
“I think it’s a murder weapon,” Jennie answered.