Page 17 of Forever Gone

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

Connor stepped onto the porch. “I’m glad you came. This is a mess.”

Selena opened the rear door of her car and took out a compact scene kit. She slipped disposable covers over her shoes, then pulled on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.

“Show me.”

Connor handed her the scene log. Selena signed her name and time of entry before following him through the front door.

Closed-up heat lingered inside the cabin. Open windows had begun to move fresh air through the rooms, but the odor beneath it remained metallic and sour. Selena paused just inside, allowing her attention to settle on the entrance.

No visible damage surrounded the lock. Paint flakes lay along the threshold, though most appeared old. A purse rested on the sofa. One suitcase stood open near the front window, clothes folded inside.

“Anything on the other entrances?” Selena asked.

“Maybe,” Connor said. “There’s a utility door off the kitchen. Matt says the latch is worn and doesn’t always catch. He could open it from outside just by putting pressure on the door.”

“Any fresh damage?”

“None.”

Selena glanced toward the hallway. “So whoever did this may not have needed a key.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Who found her?” Selena asked.

“The mail carrier. Karen had a package that wouldn’t fit in the roadside box. The label showed it had been forwarded from her old address in Loyall. He drove down, found the front door standing open, and called out. When nobody answered, he stepped inside far enough to see her.”

“Did he touch anything?”

“Says he didn’t. Arnold took his statement and sent him to the station to wait.”

“Good. We’ll need finger and shoe prints and DNA to discount him from the scene. What about Karen’s phone?”

“Missing. The charging cable is still plugged into the car, but the phone isn’t in the vehicle or the cabin.”

The narrow hallway ran toward a small kitchen at the rear. A strip of tape marked the approved path through the scene, keeping traffic away from several numbered evidence tents near the main room. Matt Price’s camera clicked from somewhere ahead.

Connor stopped beside an open doorway.

“In here.”

Selena entered and halted.

A writing desk had been pulled beneath the front window. Karen Sloane lay across it; her upper body turned partly onto one side. One arm hung toward the floor. The other stretched across the desktop. Blood darkened the front of her shirt and spread across the wood beneath her shoulder and chest. More had run down one leg of the desk before drying on the boards.

The green chair had fallen onto its side.

Matt Price crouched near the far end of the desk, photographing the floor beneath it. Slim and wiry, more so than before, he wore a black long-sleeved shirt pushed to his elbows. Tattoos covered both forearms and disappeared beneath the collar toward the left side of his neck. Two silver rings marked one ear, and a small stud caught the light at his nose.

He lowered the camera when he saw her.

“Agent Raven. Welcome back.”

Matt sounded genuinely pleased, a reaction Selena did not often inspire at homicide scenes.