“Except that freaking, bloody handprint.”
“Not Miller’s,” Micki said. “The perp’s. How he got her out of here without a struggle, I don’t know. But I’d bet my badge she left here alive.”
“What do we do now?”
“Talk to the neighbors. Maybe somebody saw or heard something. Get that evidence crew down here. And have another chat with Ms. Camden.”
The young woman jumped to her feet as they entered the living room. She clasped her hands in front of her, looking anxious. “What do you think happened to her?”
“I need you to take a look at something.”
She frowned. “Okay.”
Micki showed her the door. The girl gasped. “What is that!”
“You’ve never seen this before?”
“No.” She took a step back, looking frightened. “I was right, wasn’t I? Something’s happened to Gwen?”
“Do you have any idea what it might mean?”
She shook her head, tears flooding her eyes. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening. I don’t know what to do.”
“First, take a deep, calming breath,” Micki said soothingly. “It may be nothing.”
“I need to sit down.”
A moment later, the girl sank onto the sofa and dropped her head into her hands.
“I need to ask you a few more questions. Okay?” Camden nodded and Micki went on, “Any chance Gwen got really drunk or really pissed off and did that to the door?”
“God, no.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“Yes.”
“What about Gwen’s purse and cell phone? I didn’t see either when we searched the apartment. Did she keep it somewhere we might have missed it?”
“She usually dropped her purse wherever.” Her voice shook. “Phone was mostly in it or a pocket.”
“Which most likely means she took both with her.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” The young woman moved her gaze between them.
Micki concurred. “Now, think carefully, Nora. Is there anything else you can tell us? Something the number seven might mean to Gwen? Anything else at all?”
“No.” The girl teared up again.
“Does Gwen have family nearby?”
“Florida.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “The Panhandle.”
“Have you called them?”
“I didn’t want to upset them.” She suddenly straightened. “Maybe Gwen’s with them?”
Micki didn’t think there was a chance of that, but she agreed. “Maybe so. I’ll call them. I’ll need their names and contact information, as well as the names and contact info for the friends she was with Saturday night. And also the ex-boyfriend.”
She jumped to her feet. “I can get that. But you’ll call her folks first, right?”
“Absolutely.” Micki smiled. “With luck, Gwen’s with them and we’ll be done here.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tuesday, July 9
5:30 P.M.
“Miller’s not with her family,” Micki said, re-holstering her phone. “Now, they’re on their way here. Shit.”
Zach, across the sidewalk cafe table from her, cocked an eyebrow. “Did you really think there was a chance she would be?”
“There’s always a chance.”
She pushed away the po’boy she’d been picking at. “Crap. Families suck.”
He finished his sandwich and wadded the wrapper into a ball. “Why? What’s the problem?”
“Managing their emotions. I understand why they’re freaking out, but I can’t do my job and hold their hands at the same time.”
“You’re saying they require time and a delicate touch?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a Mack truck?”
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll take care of them.”
“Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “You really think so?”
“Sure.” He stood and lobbed his balled-up wrapper at the trash can. It dropped cleanly in. “No problem.”
She looked at him, two very different emotions hitting her simultaneously: one, relief he would deal with Miller’s family; two, gleeful expectation of his arrogance biting him squarely in the ass.
And she wasn’t so nice not to say “I told you so,” after it did.
The week’s outlook just improved.
She smiled and stood. “Appreciate it, partner. They’re all yours.” She dropped her garbage in the can and fell into step with him. “First stop, the friends Miller partied with, then the boyfriend. You’ve got the list?”
Miller’s roommate had given them a list of names and numbers. Zach glanced down it. “Nick, Angela, and Beth. The three rent a house together.”
“One-stop shopping,” she quipped as they climbed into the Taurus.
She should have known better, Micki realized a short time later—with police work, it was never as easy as that. Beth was at work and Angela had left for her night class. But Nick was home and eager to talk.
Micki had assumed that part of the roommate triangle would be a couple; it was clear after meeting Nick that the three were BFFs.