Grave Matters by Max Allan Collins

Author:Max Allan Collins [Collins, Max Allan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster

7

THE DOOR TO KATHY DEAN’S room was closed.

Though she knew the bedroom had been compromised as a crime scene in numerous ways, Sara Sidle slipped on latex gloves before gingerly opening the door onto darkness relieved only by a fraction of afternoon sun filtering in pale blue curtains.

She stepped inside and flipped the light switch, illuminating a blue-and-white room that immediately invoked memories of childhood friends with similar adolescently feminine quarters: a double bed with a floral bedspread and frilly pillows in the midst of which a big brown teddy bear wallowed; a poster, looming over the bed, of Justin Timberlake in concert; and a small white nightstand with half-a-dozen book-ended horror paperbacks (Stephen King mostly), as well as an alarm clock and a remote control for the 13” TV sitting atop a dresser on the wall opposite.

Above the TV and dresser, a UNLV pennant slanted; nearby was the girl’s desk, a two-section corner affair whose nearest section—over which loomed a poster of long-distance runner Mary Decker Slaney—was empty but for a plastic file organizer with a dictionary and thesaurus leaning against it. The other section was home to a computer monitor with keyboard, speakers on either side, sub-woofer on the floor, printer on a raised triangular shelf. Farther along that wall was the window and, beyond that, a bookcase crammed with paperbacks and hardbacks.

Although the room appeared spotlessly clean, gaps stood out where the original investigators had taken certain items, and not yet returned them, most obviously the computer tower that went with the monitor/keyboard/speakers/printer.

Judging by the severe angle of the dictionary and thesaurus, Sara surmised the absence of another book. There would be other missing stuff, too, as Conrad Ecklie’s dayshift CSIs had already been through this room…meaning ninety-nine and-a-half percent of anything useful would already be in the evidence locker.

Her job would be to find that final half percent; but first, a call to Nick at HQ seemed in order. She got out her cell.

“Stokes,” Nick’s voice said, after the second ring.

“It’s me…. Listen, I’m in her room, Kathy’s room.”

“And you’re looking for what Ecklie’s people missed.”

She grinned in spite of herself at Nick’s cocky assumption that nightshift could always find something at a crime scene that dayshift overlooked.

“No,” Sara said, “actually, I was thinking that we should get the evidence they took…and go through it?”

“Once again, CSI Sidle, I’m a step ahead of you. Already got the box right here.”

Shaking her head, grinning again, Sara said, “Okay, smart-ass—what have you found?”

“Hey, nothin’ yet. Even miracles take time.”

“But have you been through the stuff?”

“Just in a cursory way, making sure everything is there.”

“Still…spot anything good?”

“Haven’t studied it; just verified the catalog.”

“Everything’s in order?”

“Yup,” Nick said. “No puzzle pieces missing…unless you find some missing ones.”

“Hey, uh…is there a diary, a journal…?”

“I don’t remember seeing one.”

Sara made a click of frustration in one cheek. “Something missing on her desk…next to her dictionary and thesaurus? And I was hoping it might be another book—diary, maybe.”

“There’s an address book. Ms. Sidle, you betray your age.

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