“More staging,” Cooper muttered.
What the hell was Nash up to? Other than sending Braddock a big fat message.
“You estimated a time of death yet?” Braddock realized Dobbins had barely gotten to the scene, but knowing the time was crucial to diving into his investigation.
“Considering the body temp and progressive state of rig, the coagulation of the blood ...” She shrugged. “I’d say he’s been dead a good five or six hours.”
Cooper moved around the kitchen, looking for the signature. Braddock joined her search. Tangible evidence right up front would be nice. Even the best killers made mistakes.
Braddock’s cell vibrated. He checked the screen. Dispatch. He opened it. “Braddock.” Dispatch passed along two urgent messages from Detective Jenkins. Braddock needed to call him as soon as possible.
Anticipation fired in his veins. Why the hell hadn’t Jenkins called him directly? He checked the incoming call log, missed call from Jenkins. Braddock stepped out the back door and returned the call. One ring and Jenkins answered. He didn’t give Braddock a chance to speak. He should come to CJ’s house. Now. The detective’s final words kept replaying over and over even after the call ended.
Blood is all over the bed.
3021 Appleton Street
Five minutes after Braddock arrived at CJ’s house, he called the forensics techs to the scene.
He and Jenkins were at a standoff in the bedroom. CJ waited downstairs in the living room.
“I can’t believe someone got in without you noticing a thing,” Braddock repeated. Maybe if he kept going over that same detail, Jenkins would ’fess up. He’d either fallen asleep or had been AWOL. “What happened at the clinic yesterday was bad enough, but this is totally unacceptable.”
Jenkins shook his head, his gaze downcast. “I was right here all night. I didn’t hear or see anything. And that guy at the clinic was just like all the other people who came in and out.” He met Braddock’s gaze then. “Unless I’d followed him inside—and you told me to stay outside—I couldn’t have known.”
Possibly the truth. The perp could have slipped through the back and left the front door unlocked just to make HPD look bad.
But Braddock wasn’t convinced.
“Here’s the deal.” Braddock stepped into the other detective’s personal space. “If I find out you’re lying to me, your career at HPD is over. Period.”
Jenkins nodded. “I understand.”
Braddock glared at him one last time. “Now get back to your post.”
He watched the humbled detective go. Jenkins had never given him any reason to doubt him. But this was one hell of a big reason. Giving him grace, they were all operating on adrenaline.
Not enough sleep. No time off. It would help if the chief would budge on the manpower cap. Wasn’t going to happen. Three detectives were all Braddock was allotted for this case.
Fury still charging through him, he went back downstairs to talk to CJ. She was pretty shaken.
She stopped her pacing and stared at Braddock as he descended the final steps.
“I don’t understand how someone got in without ...” CJ shook her head in confusion, gestured vaguely. “They did this and I never even knew.” She hugged her arms around herself. “I slept right through it.”
She had told him about taking a sleep aid. That was likely the reason she hadn’t awakened. But the problem, as he saw it, was that whoever came in and left this warning had no idea she’d taken something to help her sleep.
The intruder hadn’t cared.
Didn’t care about the official surveillance sitting right in front of the house.
That would be just like Nash.
She could have been injured or killed if she had awakened while the intruder was still in the house.
Fear trickled inside him. She had Nash’s attention, all right.
“We need to talk.” Braddock ushered her to the sofa. The first thing that needed to be clarified by the lab was whether or not the blood on her bed was human and possibly belonged to Banks.
