“No,” he said staring at her. “Where’s your weapon?”
“In my purse,” she said reaching for it. He already had his Glock pulled and ready.
“Stay behind me. Don’t touch anything. Usual procedure.”
She nodded, following him as he slowly pushed the door open with his foot. He stopped, hoping to hear something, some sort of noise, but nothing. There was a small table lamp illuminating the living area. A living area that looked as if a tornado had come through.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Priscilla.
He nodded, waving her forward into the kitchen. Pots and pans were strewn everywhere, plates smashed to pieces on the floor, glasses thrown against walls.
“Where’s the bedroom?” he asked.
“Upstairs.”
Priscilla was worried about River going first. He was big and if there was anyone still in the house, he was easily spotted, even in the dim light of winter. He hit the landing at the top of the stairs and nodded for her to come up.
“Which one?” he whispered.
She nodded to a closed door and he pulled the tail of his shirt out, gently turning the knob. Pushing it open, he knew immediately what they’d find. The metallic smell of blood was so evident it made them both curl their noses.
“I’ll call the police,” she said calmly. He nodded moving closer to the bed.
Celine was face down, her head turned to the left, staring at the bedroom door. Her eyes were open, her face grimacing as if in agony. She was fully clothed but the damage was evident.
At least two blunt trauma hits to the head. At least five knife wounds that he could see. Her leg was twisted awkwardly, the bed unmade and soaked with her blood.
“They’re on their way,” said Priscilla staring at her friend’s body. “Jesus. Who would do this?”
“I’m not sure,” said River but they were looking for something. He stared at the mess in the bedroom. Drawers were pulled out of the dresser, clothing thrown around the room. Someone was angry. Her closet wasn’t any better.
“It’s only been a little over an hour since we left her,” said Priscilla. “I think someone was here when she got home.” He nodded at her.
“I think so, too. Come on. Let’s get downstairs.”
They waited patiently for the police to arrive, which in their opinion took far too long. It was rush hour traffic but still, it shouldn’t have taken quite as long as it did.
“I see the cops pulling up but who is that?” asked River.
“Todd. I sent him a text. She’s his employee and this could be about something she was working on.”
“Weren’t you two partners?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” she said nodding. “But she was often working cases on the side for Todd. Celine wasn’t afraid to go into places that others didn’t want anything to do with.”
“Like?” he frowned.
“What happened?” asked Todd walking toward them.
“We don’t know. We were supposed to meet her here for a farewell dinner and we found the door open,” said Priscilla. “We didn’t touch anything but it’s a mess in there.”
Todd went inside staring at the absolute disarray. The police were already taking photos of the body, careful not to move her or any of the items.
“Somebody was seriously pissed at her,” he said staring at the mess.
“Was she working on anything in particular?” asked River.
“Listen, River I appreciate your help with the last case but I can’t disclose what she was working on. I’m sorry.”
