CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and FIFTY-NINE
Bob nodded. Standing in the middle of the dried blood, dust, and decay of an old crime scene, Dr. Robert Parrish looked at his team — Ava, Fran, and Leslie — as well as the young Crime Scene Unit technician, Luther, and Captain Ferguson. Nelson stuck his head out of the bathroom, where he’d been working, to see what was going on.
“Okay,” Bob said. “We have a tenant who moved out in the middle of the month, right?”
“That’s what the file says,” Ava said.
“And we know this door was broken before the party,” Bob said.
“I postulate that the tenant was either being stalked or a battered woman,” Bob said. “We could ask the woman who lived across the hallway. She’d know.”
Jacob and Delphie looked off into space.
“She says that the woman had left an abusive brother,” Delphie said. “Moved in here, but the brother found her.”
“To me, it looks like an abusive and controlling man kicked open the door,” Bob said. “He did whatever he did. . .”
“Beat up his sister,” Jacob said with a nod. He quickly added, “According to our ghostly neighbor from across the hall.”
“. . . and went away,” Bob said. “He came back for his sister and found this party. Bunch of people ran out. He dropped a body there. . .”
Bob pointed to an area near the door. Luther dropped an evidence cone.
“Knocked over the food table,” Bob said. “Then shot someone there.”
He pointed to an area where he was standing. Ferguson put a cone there.
“So he’s looking for his sister, right?” Bob asked. “He thinks that she’s here but he can’t find her. So he’s shooting fairly randomly. He must have decided that she was in the bathroom because he killed someone in there, right?”
“Got it,” Nelson said from the bathroom.
“By that time, the apartment has cleared out enough for him to realize that his sister wasn’t here,” Bob said. “Realizing what he’s done, he went in the closet with his shotgun.”
No one said anything for a moment.
“Did I miss anything?” Bob asked.
“There are a couple of other blood spatters,” Ava said.
“That’s what I was looking at,” Bob said. “He must have shot quite a few people. We need to see if the hospitals have any record of gun shot victims or if the folks were freaked out about the drugs they’d taken that they dealt with it themselves.”
“Where?” Ferguson asked.
“Here,” Bob said. “Here and here. You can see the pattern on this wall. It’s blood but not a lot of blood or an arterial spray. There’s no pool here.”
Bob pointed to the ground.
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...
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