Turning around, I peered at the gravel drive. “Any sign of footprints or tire treads?”
My question turned Ralph suddenly sheepish. “Oh yeah that.” He scratched the back of his neck. “To be honest with you, we really hadn’t thought of that yet.”
While I could have let him squirm a little, I decided to let him off the hook. “No problem. That’s probably something the GBI will want to look at.”
Ralph’s face appeared momentarily relieved that he hadn’t screwed up the investigation, but then it clouded over. “G-Men are coming?”
I nodded. “I made the call on the way over here. Thankfully, they had some agents in the area, and they were going to dispatch them here.”
Ralph spit out another stream of tobacco. “Well, I ain’t really a fan of the G-Men, but I guess it’s good that we have someone more knowledgeable on the case. Hell, it’s been twenty years since I’ve been involved in a murder investigation.”
“At least you’ve been involved in an investigation first-hand. I’ve only witnessed them as an observer when I was in college.”
“Well, let’s don’t let the G-Men show us up too much. I’ll get my boys busy photographing the scene and dusting for fingerprints.”
“Sounds good. Now let me get a look inside.”
Ralph nodded and held the front door open for me. Before I stepped into the house, I traded my heels for tennis shoes and then put on the paper booties to cover them. Once I walked inside, my senses went on high alert as I took in the particulars of Randy’s house. Even the smallest detail could mean something big to the case. The living area was gorgeous with floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the woods. If you looked closely, you could see the river in the distance.
The inside of Randy’s house was warm and inviting, much like his personality. He owned several impressive pieces of art as well as oriental rugs and porcelain. Some of it surprised me since it seemed a little out of a small town pharmacist’s budget. At the thought that Randy might’ve had a darker side, I couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of the thought. Since he never mentioned his family, he most likely had inherited the pieces or the money to buy them.
“Do we have a timeline of Randy’s actions?”
Ralph nodded. “Somewhat. He closed up the pharmacy at six last night like usual. Then he stopped in at The Hitching Post to have dinner, which he does on the nights he handles closing instead of one of the pharmacy techs. Thelma said he left probably between seven and seven forty-five.”
“So we’re looking at anywhere from eight last night to this morning for a time of death?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fabulous,” I muttered. As I started out of dining room, the photographer’s flashbulb momentarily blinded me. “Easy there, Newt,” I said, as I fought the black blobs dancing before my eyes.
“Sorry about that, Olivia.”
“Can I have you come back to the bedroom to photograph the body while I do my investigation?”
“Sure thing.”
Newt and I were almost to the bedroom when I heard Todd call my name from the front door. “Back here,” I called.
He came jogging down the hallway. “Hey. Your mother and Pease said that with Harry and Earl, they had the Peterson and Laughton visitations covered, and I should come here to be with you.”
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my mother and Pease to think my thirty-year-old self was incapable of handling my coroner duties. “Thank you, Todd, but I think I have it under control. And since the GBI will be taking Randy’s body to the crime lab, I won’t need the hearse for transportation.”
Todd held up his hands in surrender. “Got it. You don’t mind if I stay and watch do you?” Curiosity danced in his brown eyes. “I’ve never been part of a murder investigation before.”
I smiled. “Of course, you can stay. I can use your help in a minute when it comes to turning Randy over.”
“What about Ralph?”
With a roll of my eyes, I whispered, “He’s always conveniently down in his back and can’t help lift even a finger.”
Todd chuckled. “Nice.”
As I stepped into the bedroom, a coppery, metallic smell invaded my nostrils. It was one I had grown accustomed to whenever blood loss was involved in the death. I once again did a visual sweep of the room. The expensive TV and computer system remained in place. None of the drawers in the bureau had been disturbed or rifled through. It was certainly not a robbery-motivated attack. Since everything was meticulously in order in the bedroom, I felt it safe to assume there hadn’t been a struggle.
Drop Dead Sexy
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)