“The body is ready for the ME, though I suspect he or she will prefer to take it back to the morgue before unwrapping it to preserve any potential evidence,” Stuart was saying. “CSI Keller and I will process the tarp and rope back at the lab for touch DNA and fingerprints.”
It was the outcome Amanda had expected, even if she hated the delay for identification.
Trent turned toward Amanda. “We need to strongly consider it’s Lane because it most likely is.”
“I know.” The likelihood it was someone else was slim. The homeowner was gone, and Christine’s Lexus was in the driveway. “We need to track down the clients who requested the showing. It had to be what brought her here.”
“And since she didn’t notify the office, we’ll need our hands on her phone.”
“If we can. Her call history from her service provider, at worst. But let’s see what a search of the house turns up. She might have tucked her phone away in her purse somewhere.”
The front door opened downstairs, and she overheard Hans Rideout, the medical examiner, talking to his assistant, Liam Baker. Soon, they were padding up the stairs and down the hall. Liam entered the room carrying a special wheeled cart designed to navigate stairs, and Rideout followed with his bag in hand.
“The scene is ready for you,” Stuart told them.
Rideout set his bag down and walked toward the tarp,stepping as if he were toeing across glass. “This is a first. A body in a tarp. On Charmed Court, no less. Nothing much charming about murder.”
Amanda caught Stuart giving the comment an eye roll. Keller smirked.
“Well, Amanda and Trent, you won’t want to hear this…” Rideout lifted his gaze from the body. “But Liam and I will just be loading ’er up and taking it back to the morgue. We wouldn’t want to chance losing forensic evidence. That means no ID, TOD, or COD until later.”
“I’ll text or call you the moment we know any of this,” Liam wedged in.
Amanda unpacked each acronym with ease. ID, identity. TOD, time of death. And COD, cause of death. “We suspected as much, but we have reason to believe the victim is Christine Lane.”
“The homeowner?” Rideout asked.
“The real estate agent,” Amanda said. “It’s her Lexus in the driveway.”
“Huh. This case just got even more interesting.”
“Do you have any idea when you’ll get to the body?” Amanda directed the question to Liam because he kept Rideout’s schedule. He’d either consult the electronic calendar on his tablet or know off the top of his head.
“The autopsy is unlikely to be today, but we’ll get the decedent unwrapped, and hopefully ID’d when we get back to Manassas.”
Amanda nodded. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Don’t mention it.” Liam stepped inside the edge of the bedframe with Rideout, who was tilting his head as he observed the body. Whatever he saw, he wasn’t sharing.
“Liam, help me remove the frame,” Rideout said to his assistant.
While they worked on that, Amanda turned to Trent. “Let’sgo see if we can find Christine’s phone.” She led the way downstairs and headed toward the front door and turned around.
If I were Christine, what would I do with my purse? Assuming I came with one…
Amanda ran it through in her mind. She’d wipe her shoes before making her way deeper into the house. She took the steps, passed the entry closet, and circled back. Pulling on a pair of gloves again, she tugged on the door.
It was sparse aside from a few coats, but dangling on a hanger was a compact Coach crossbody purse. A beautiful high-end brand, but having toured the walk-in closet upstairs, she’d say this didn’t belong to Dominique Sharp.
“You found something?” Trent hovered over her shoulder.
“What gave it away?” She shared her thoughts, opened the flap, and peeked inside. “There’s a wallet, a phone, and a portable charger with a small cable.”
“That bag is deceptively big.”
Amanda removed the wallet and fished out a driver’s license. “Christine’s.” She held the card for Trent to see while fighting off nausea. The body upstairs had to be her half-brother’s girlfriend. She returned the wallet to the purse and grabbed the phone. “No juice.”
“Guess we know why it went directly to voicemail. But how long has it been in the closet? We figured she went missing sometime after her seven o’clock showing on Friday night. Most phones hold a charge for seventy-two hours.”
