Erwin wanted to get as far away from the scene as possible. She was clearly devastated by her boss’s death. There were four dead—all homicides—and the whole place smelled of coagulating blood, stalecigarettes, and booze. Whatever went down here, it was preceded by one hell of a rowdy party. Not exactly the norm for the address.
Thomas Wilton, the property owner, was face down in the hot tub. His wife lay on the steps a few yards away. There was an unidentified male on the floor not much more than twenty feet from where Bent stood right now. Along with an unidentified female, naked and also deceased, on the other side of the room, lying on the floor in front of the fridge. In addition to all the blood and booze, there was evidence of drug use. This was a total shit show, and he needed to somehow piece together what the hell had happened. Sadly there wasn’t another soul around anywhere on the property ... except Valeri Erwin, who’d only arrived at this cabin just under an hour ago.
She scrubbed at her face. “Can I at least sit on the porch.” She shuddered. “The smell in here is ...” Another shiver shook her small frame. Barely over five feet tall and maybe a hundred pounds, she looked like a kid, with her dark hair hanging like a curtain around her face.
Bent nodded. “The porch is fine, but do not leave. Got it?”
Her arms wrapped tightly around her, she nodded her understanding. “Got it.”
He watched her exit the front door and confirmed that she’d settled into a rocking chair. She dropped her head into her hands and, judging by the way her shoulders shook, started to cry again. Bent didn’t really know the woman, but he was aware that she worked for Thomas Wilton. He’d seen her around town now and then. Her name had come up as a witness to a disagreement between two tenants in the rental on the corner of Washington and Franklin. She lived there as well. The last he’d heard, Wilton had bought the place for her so she could kick out the offending tenants.
Bent hadn’t read too much into it at the time. Good help was hard to find, and the guy was rich. Or maybe there was something more going on between the boss and his assistant. Hadn’t really mattered until now.
Now everything mattered.
He removed his hat and plowed his fingers through his hair as he gazed across the massive living space of what had to be the biggest damned cabin he’d ever seen. Now he had four dead, including the owner, and the owner’s personal assistant was the one to find them. He glanced out the window at her once more, settled his hat back into place. If he was lucky, Erwin would have some idea of how this began. These kinds of murders didn’t just happen. There would be some sort of buildup, however seemingly insignificant, and then a trigger point.
No indications of a burglary. The door was unlocked and ajar when she arrived, according to Erwin. She swore she didn’t touch one thing other than the door and Wilton’s head and left arm. At first she’d been so stunned by the coyote and all the bodies and blood, the reality that everyone was dead hadn’t sunk in. She had tried to lift Wilton from the water, but then she’d realized it was too late. Most anyone stumbling into a scene like this would have reacted the same.
Bent braced his hands on his hips and surveyed the room at large once more. Upon first look it appeared the party had taken a bad turn. Victim number one, the unidentified male on the floor near the couch, had been stabbed multiple times. Defense wounds on the right arm and left hand. According to Erwin, the coyote had been inside when she arrived, which explained the additional damage to the vic’s injured arm.
Bloody footprints, from bare feet, led from the dead man to victim two, the unidentified female, on the floor near the fridge, who had been stabbed as well. Two wounds in the abdomen, one nick in the neck, which, judging by the amount of blood spewed onto the refrigerator and the floor, most likely penetrated the artery just enough to make one hell of a mess.
Those same footprints made a path to the set of French doors that led to the rear deck. Outside, victim three, the owner of the property, Thomas Wilton, floated in the hot tub. His wounds appeared far more defensive in nature. From what Bent could see without removing the body from the water—which he could not do until the ME had a look—there was one stab wound in the middle of his back as wellas random injuries scattered over his arms. There were probably others Bent could not see right now. Wilton didn’t appear the type to go down easy.
Victim four, the wife, had fallen face down on the steps of the deck, hitting her head. The reddish stains on her bare feet as well as the size told him the tracks in the blood were hers. No visible knife wounds like the others. Odd considering the consistent MO up until that point. Based on the positioning of her body, she was obviously attempting to flee the danger. She was the only one whose body had not gone into full rigor, which suggested the head injury had not been immediately fatal. The fact that her head was turned to the right, showing off the damage to her forehead, also indicated she had survived long enough to at least move her head.
The question was, Did she just happen upon the victims and their killer, or was she the one wielding the knife and fell when she ran? So far there was no sign of a knife or any other weapon. Could be in the hot tub with Wilton.
Bent estimated the attack had occurred late Monday evening, maybe fifteen or so hours ago. The murder weapon for three of the vics appeared to be a knife from the block on the kitchen counter. The perp may have disposed of the knife or taken it with them. Two deputies would be searching the cabin and grounds around it. It hadn’t rained for days, so there was little chance of finding tire or footprints.
The fact that all involved in the deadly event were naked suggested a sex party. Bent had spotted residue that he suspected was cocaine, as well as a bowl containing weed and rolling paper. There was no shortage of alcohol. With all the bowls of snacks and charcuterie offerings scattered over tables and counters, it was a miracle there hadn’t been more scavengers inside when Erwin arrived.
Wilton had no criminal record or even a parking ticket, for that matter. There had never been a call about trouble at his property. But the man had a lot of wooded acres around him and no close neighbors, so any past disturbances may have gone unnoticed.
Bent surveyed the large great room once more, his attention resting lastly on Erwin beyond the front window. She had been employed by Wilton for long enough to know the man’s more personal history. Bent had a good many more questions for her.
“Sheriff!” Deputy Olson shouted.
Bent turned and started toward the wide-open French doors on the far side of the large room. “You done?” he called back to the deputy videoing the exterior part of the crime scene.
“You need to come out here, Sheriff.”
He hoped another vic hadn’t been discovered. Four was more than enough. Deputy Will Conover and his forensic team, meaning Conover and one other deputy, were headed this way, but Bent had wanted a video done before any intrusion. A thorough search inside and out wouldn’t be started until the video was completed.
Crouched next to the female victim on the steps, Olson glanced up as Bent approached. “I’m done, yeah. But while I had the camera focused on her”—he stared down at the woman again—“I thought I saw her chest rise ever so slightly.” He nodded to Alicia Wilton. “It’s hard to catch, but I’m pretty sure she’s still breathing. Pulse is even harder to find, but I think I felt it.”
Bent got down on one knee next to Alicia Wilton. “You sure?”
Olson nodded. “Think so.” He shook his head then. “I swear she wasn’t breathing, and there was no pulse the first time I checked.”
Bent checked her carotid pulse. Damned faint ... almost imperceptible. But it was there. Anticipation seared through him. “Get a paramedic here ASAP.”
“Calling now,” Olson said.
Bent would like to move her off the steps. She couldn’t be comfortable, but he didn’t dare. There might be injuries he couldn’t see. There was no blood or visible damage anywhere but to her forehead. Still, that didn’t mean something inside wasn’t broken or damaged in some way, and since she was in no imminent danger right where she lay, he opted not to take the risk. But he could get something to cover her body.
“Hastings,” Bent called out. He watched Alicia Wilton’s body, saw a slight tremor. She was definitely alive, but not by much.
