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Empty. No signs of trouble.
A few more steps led to the only bedroom. The door stood ajar. She glanced at the interior.
The bed was unmade. Coverlet on the floor. Lamp overturned.
Then she spotted a blood trail from the white sheets to the carpet and drag marks across the floor.
EIGHTY-EIGHT
Ellie paused at the door to Sarah’s bedroom, careful not to touch anything. The young woman was nowhere in sight. But judging from the blood and disarray in the room, she’d obviously been attacked and was injured. She just hoped she was still alive. “Derrick, in here!” Ellie shouted.
His footsteps pummeled the floor as he hurried to her, and he muttered a curse as he halted behind her.
“She’s gone,” Ellie said. “But something definitely happened.”
“I’ll call an ERT,” Derrick said as he pulled his phone.
While he made the call, Ellie snapped photographs of the room, the bedding, floor, and the bloody handprint on the wall. In her mind, a scenario formed—Sarah in bed, a man assaulting her, her fighting. She’d probably clawed at the wall as he dragged her across the room.
Blood streaks were everywhere, a pair of smiling lips painted on the wall similar to the one at Beverly Hooper’s house.
Questions nagged at Ellie. If Sarah was dead, why take her body?
She glanced at the window and noted it was closed. Carefully stepping around the blood stains, she crossed to the window and examined it.
The window was locked.
She pivoted, searching the room for signs of how the perp had gained entry. The front door had been locked with multiple locks when they’d arrived. The windows were secure. There was no back door.
“Bloody smiling lips again,” Ellie told Derrick as he entered the room.
“Similar to Radcliff’s MO but not identical,” Derrick said. “Why take her?”
A shiver went through Ellie. “He wanted us to know he struck again so he left his calling card. Now he sits back and tortures her while we hunt.”
“Could be,” Derrick agreed.
“How did this perp get in and out of the apartment with her?”
“He could have been hiding inside when she got home,” Derrick suggested.
“True, but the door and deadbolt were locked from the inside.” Curious, she looked up at the ceiling. Nothing there.
Another survey of the room and she saw a vent large enough for a person to crawl through a few inches off the floor.
“The vent screws are loose,” Ellie said.
Derrick rushed up behind her. “He crawled through, attacked her, then left the same way.”
Ellie scratched her head. “Then he dragged her through the vent?”
Derrick’s breath punctuated the air. “It’s possible,” Derrick said. “Or… once he was in, he carried her out the door, put her in his car then returned. Locked things up and left through the vent.”
“And it happened during the night when no one would notice,” Ellie added.
Her stomach churned, and she glanced back at the door. They’d ordered Coolidge to stay outside.
“The apartment manager had keys to her apartment,” Ellie said. “He could have lied and had a key to the deadbolt.”
