I needed to switch off the part of my brain that loved Tessa and switch on the part that analyzed kill zones. If I didn’t, the grief would drop me to my knees, and I couldn’t afford to be on my knees. I needed to be on the hunt. I shined the light on the floor. The police report said robbery. But robbery is chaotic.
Robbery is messy in a frantic way. Drawers pulled out, things smashed in a line toward the exit. This room was different. The chairs weren’t knocked over randomly. They were pushed back against the walls, creating a circle, an arena. I knelt down near the spot where the bleach smell was strongest. The wood was warped from the chemicals, but the stain was deep.
I traced the outer edge of the splatter with my gloved finger. Low velocity, I whispered to the empty room. If a stranger strikes you in a panic, they swing wide and wild. The blood flies in long, thin arcs, cast off patterns on the walls. I shown my light on the walls. They were clean. That meant the blows were vertical, straight down, controlled.
