“I understand, it has been hectic and it sure doesn’t sound like she was in trouble or worried about her husband. If the sheriff locates her, we’ll follow up on what she remembered.” Kane headed upstairs to search the bathroom.
The dirty laundry hamper overflowed onto a pile of wet stinking towels on the floor. Photographing everything as he moved through the area, he noticed the neatly lined-up beauty products on the shelves. The mess was certainly not usual for Mrs. Rogers and again, women who come back to pack take everything; hell, he had a good idea how much money women spent on face cream alone. Glad of the face mask, he bagged all the dirty clothes and pushed the towels into a separate bag. Concern for Mrs. Rogers’ welfare became a priority. He collected the hairbrush and toothbrushes in case Wolfe could find a DNA sample. Something stinks and it isn’t the dirty laundry.
Mind reeling with confusion, Kane went downstairs and back into the kitchen. He noticed a few dark spots on the ceiling and took samples. The idea Rogers had murdered his wife flashed in his mind like a neon sign but the practical side of his brain insisted a psychopathic killer capable of dissecting three young women and putting them on display would be unlikely at best to risk murdering his wife. Add the fact he had searched every damn inch of the place and so far had found nothing in relation to the three victims. Psychopathic murderers keep trophies, and if Rogers had hidden them somewhere, they would be easily accessible. The need to touch and relive the thrill was a common trait. He met Rowley in the hallway. “I’ve found nothing relating to the victims. You?”
“Nope, mostly dust and a few smears of something on the hall floor. I’ve marked it and taken samples.” Rowley’s dark eyes moved toward the hallway. “If it is blood, then it’s feasible something or someone was wrapped in the Chinese rug and dragged out the back door. I found a couple of dark spots in the laundry; the back door leads to the garage.”
A tingle of worry crawled up Kane’s spine. “Wolfe gave me a test kit. If it’s blood, we need to call Wolfe.” He strolled into the family room and retrieved the kit from his bag.
The test was simple enough: drop a swab into a small test tube and shake. He flicked a gaze at Rowley, who watched him with interest. “Yeah, it’s blood. I’ll call Wolfe then I guess I’ll have to check the cellar.”
“You must hate checking cellars?”
After finding two bodies and Jenna fighting for her life in various cellars six months previously, he understood Rowley’s worries. “Yeah, I do. Let’s hope this one’s empty.”
He contacted Wolfe and gave him the rundown on the situation and Wolfe had offered to take over. He sighed with relief—once he cleared the cellar, he could get back to the office and go over the facts and timeline with Jenna. As he had not heard back from her on Mrs. Rogers’ whereabouts, the possibility something had happened to her shouted loudly in his head.
After a quick search, he found the cellar door in the laundry room and, ignoring the morbid anticipation rushing into his mind, headed down the steps. The overhead lights flooded the room but he found nothing but a boiler and a few storage boxes. With Rowley working beside him, they went through each carton and found Christmas decorations and old clothes. The light coating of dust on the floor and his and Rowley’s footprints gave him the impression no one had been down there for some time.
“Okay, this is a dead end. Did you check every nook and cranny, any place someone might hide something?”
“Yeah, when you went upstairs I checked the kitchen cupboards, opened all the containers, and found nothing.” Rowley’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. “I did find porn but nothing illegal. No young girls.”
“Okay.” Kane collected all the evidence bags, placed them inside one large bag, sealed it, then headed toward the front door. “I need some air.”
On the porch, he pulled down his mask and frowned at Rowley. “The sort of women who arouse a killer doesn’t mean it’s the kind he prefers to murder. Some types trigger a response—say, for instance, a blonde skinny girl at school made him look stupid in front of his friends then the killer would more likely marry a curvaceous brunette and murder blonde skinny girls. To a psychopath, rape and murder are punishment. Child abuse can trigger a psychopathic response, which remains semi-dormant until something happens, and as kids, they usually take it out on their pets. The cat scratched him, so he killed it because he has power over the cat, the power he didn’t have as a kid.”
“I see, so Rogers could still be our man?”
Kane’s attention moved to the arrival of Wolfe’s SUV. “Yeah, we just need to build a case, and so far, apart from being in the same location at the time of two of the murders, we have zip.” Wondering why Jenna had not contacted him about Mrs. Rogers, he rubbed his chin. “I just hope he didn’t murder his wife.”
Forty
Jenna picked up her cellphone to call Kane then heard his voice in the hallway outside her office. He loomed at the open door, his Stetson low over his brow, elbows out like a huge bat, and an expression of complete exhaustion on his handsome face. She looked at him for some moments then realized the pink cat’s whisker-like markings on his face came from wearing a paper face mask for some hours. “You look exhausted, sit down and take the weight off.”
“Being a bit OCD about cleanliness—having to sift through the filth at the Rogers’ house was disgusting, especially when I found nothing to tie him to the murders.” Kane placed a holder with four cups of coffee on her desk and two takeout cartons. “I have food and coffee. I left Rowley at Aunt Betty’s to have something to eat. He plans on devouring the entire menu then he is going home before he takes the graveyard shift to watch our prisoner.”
“He’ll be fine.” She smiled at him and peered into a carton. “Yum. Bagels and cream cheese. I’ve been stuck in the control room watching Emily, just in case something happened to her while Wolfe was out. She is currently at Aimee Fox’s house and Wolfe is dropping by to pick her up on his way here. He’ll find out if she has any information then drop her home.”
“I’m glad she’s okay. I can’t help noticing Wolfe’s protectiveness. I take it he isn’t convinced Rogers is our man.”
A sliver of worry crawled in goosebumps up her arms. “What do you think?”
“I’d like to go over the timelines again with you because we have nothing to tie Rogers to the murders apart from circumstantial evidence.” Kane removed his hat and dropped it on the chair beside him then ruffled his tangled mass of black hair. “I’m not convinced he is our man but my gut tells me he is hiding something.”
She leaned back in her chair, fingers wrapped around her coffee, and sighed. “Apparently, he will talk to us later this afternoon. His lawyer is trying to get him released but so far our arrest warrant is holding.” Sighing, she sipped her beverage. “The story of the murders will hit the news this evening. All I said in the statement was we found the bodies. I asked for anyone in the locations who had seen the girls or noticed any person or car in the area at the time to contact our office. No other details.”
“Let’s hope we don’t get a heap of crazies calling.” Kane’s brow furrowed. “Any luck finding Mrs. Rogers?”
Pulling the wrapping from a bagel, she shook her head. “No, her sister said she went home to get her things and hasn’t heard from her since. This behavior is apparently quite normal. Mrs. Rogers only calls her sister when she wants something or has an argument with her husband. She said her sister often takes off for days alone.”