A Child Shall Lead Them (A Joe Burgess Mystery, Book 6) by Flora Kate;

Author:Flora, Kate; [Flora, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 5781245
Publisher: ePublishing Works!

Twenty-Six

The first officer on scene was Gabe Delinsky, so he got the job of Log Officer. Remy Aucoin was next. Burgess told him to string up crime scene tape. In less than five minutes, the crime scene van was there. Wink was complaining, and Rudy Carr, their photographer, and Dani had gone quietly to work.

Before he and Kyle left them to record and measure in the living room, he said, “We have one piece of good news tonight. Stan and Lily are parents of a girl. Autumn Angela.”

“Autumn,” Dani said as she placed a box of shoe covers by the front door. “I love it.” Then, “Gabe, no one comes in without these, okay. Not even the Chief, or Captain Cote.”

“Ma’am,” Delinsky said, “Nobody is getting past me.”

“No, I don’t suppose they will.” Delinsky was as big as Burgess, but twenty years younger and fast on his feet.

Burgess and Kyle put on their shoe protectors and started their review of the rest of the house. Straight ahead was the kitchen. The room was immaculate. No dishes in the sink. Nothing on the counters except a toaster, a coffee maker, and a small metal dish with two sets of keys. No flyers, photos, clippings or magnets on the refrigerator. Burgess opened the fridge warily. Once you’ve found a human head in there, you open them carefully for the rest of your life. Even in your own house.

The refrigerator was like the rest of the kitchen. Spotless. Orderly. There was nothing fun to eat in there. Everything was packaged and labeled. He checked the freezer. It was the same way. While there were packages labeled “Lynn” and “Charlie” there were none labeled “Shelley.” Had they cleaned the refrigerator after Shelley was killed, or had this household never included food for Shelley? He couldn’t ask Charlie or Marilyn now, but there might be neighbors, friends, or co-workers who could shed some light on the domestic arrangements.

The cupboards were as sterile as the fridge. Even the area under the sink, which became a catch-all for cleaning supplies, plant food, and oversized pots and pans in most kitchens, was orderly and immaculate.

“Remind me that we want to see their trash,” he told Kyle.

“It must have been awful to be a child in this house,” Kyle said.

They moved back past the small half bath and down the corridor that led to the bedrooms, hugging the wall to avoid stepping where the nap showed someone, or something, had been dragged. Where small dark spots on the clean beige carpet suggested there might be drops of blood.

The first bedroom was evidently used as an office. There was a desk and filing drawers, a calculator and a jar of pens and pencils. Some reference books on the shelves. A small stack of manila file folders on the corner of the desk. The drawers held neatly labeled files. Mortgage. Insurance. Cars. Taxes. Investments. They would need to go through these files at some point, but that could wait.

The second bedroom was tiny, with a single bed, a small desk and desk chair, and nothing else.

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