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Red.
Blood.
Her blood.
“Fuck,” I growled again, head on a swivel, looking for some clue, some sign of what had happened so quickly.
“Wells, it’s Gawen,” a voice said in my ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“She has cameras,” I said, looking at them. “If we can get the company to give us access…”
“On it,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Not yet,” I said, looking around again, seeing the neighbor’s floodlight over the garage turn on as he walked out. “Get on this,” I demanded, voice rough with emotion as I tucked my phone away, and ran toward the neighbor as I reached for my badge, something I always carried on me when I was armed.
“Hey!” I called, waving a hand.
“Er, hey,” he said, stiffening.
“Police,” I said, flashing the badge. “Detective Vaughn,” I added. “Did you see the woman who owns that house today?” I asked, gesturing toward Mari’s house.
His eyes immediately darkened.
“Sad, that,” he said. “No. I don’t live here,” he said, waving at the house. “Just stopped by after work tonight to work on it, so I can put it on the market,” he added.
I didn’t have time for this.
I had to see if anyone else had seen anything, if they’d gotten their own cameras after what happened to Mari. Nearby crime always tended to make people get extra cautious about their own safety. Especially if there were women or kids in the houses.
“Last rental left the place a fucking mess. Energy drink cans everywhere. And the fucking blood in the bathroom sink.”
“Blood?” I asked, head whipping back so fast that my vision swam for a moment.
“Yeah, looks like he got a bloody nose or something, and didn’t bother to wash it down before he just up and left.”
“Did you meet this guy?”
“It was a short-term rental,” he said, shaking his head. “Done through an app and shit like that.”
“How long had he been staying here?”
“Oh, I dunno. Longer than usual. A month or so.”
A month.
A month was plenty long enough to do some good stalking on Mari. See where she went, when she got home. What time she went to bed. All the kind of shit that would make his job easier. And it would feed his sick obsession. He could even speak to her, interact with her, and she’d be none the wiser, just thinking he was a neighbor.
“I need you to get me that information,” I demanded. “Right now,” I added, not caring how harsh my voice was sounding as I reached for my phone again, dialing Gawen as the homeowner clicked through his phone, brows pinched.
“Got something?” Gawen asked, and there was a lot of noise going on around him. Everyone scrambled, tried to find something, tried to make sure Mari wasn’t another dead woman at the hands of theSilent Sadist.
“Neighbor. It was a short-term renter. The owner said he was there a month. And there was blood in the sink…”
“Like from where he treated his stab wounds,” Gawen said.
“Exactly,” I said, silently urging the homeowner to move faster. How hard could it be to find such recent information?
“Here it is,” he said, thrusting his phone screen at me.
