THE FIRST TWO HOMES Shaw checked out weren’t the ones. From a distance Katie watched him enter the places only to come out of each a few minutes later. At the third house, however, a stone mansion in McLean, he didn’t come right back out. In fact, he didn’t come out at all.
Katie checked her watch. Ten minutes had gone by. This must be the jackpot. She slipped out of her car and crept into the house the same way as Shaw had – through the back door. Her heart was hammering in her ears as she threaded her way down the hall. She almost tripped over something that was in her path. It was all she could do not to scream.
Is it a body?
Is it Shaw’s body?
As she groped around with her hand, she felt the overturned chair in
front of her. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she noticed other things too, things that shouldn’t have been where they were, including a smashed photo on the floor. She picked it up, squinted at the picture. It was a man with a young boy.
She put it down and edged along the hall. A box was on the floor. She bent down to see what it was. The box turned out to be empty, but it looked like something had been kept in there. Was this Shaw’s doing? Was he looking for something she didn’t know about? Was there someone else in here and all this debris evidence of a struggle? She really should just run, but what if Shaw were hurt?
The door was up ahead. She clutched the knob, took a breath, and eased it open. It was a bedroom. A large one. The master suite of this McMansion.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the figure in bed. He was propped up on pillows. The weak moonlight that came through the window allowed her to see. The man looked like he was still screaming. But he wouldn’t be screaming anymore. Katie had seen corpses before and this was one.
She turned to run.
And smacked right into a human wall.
Shaw clamped a hand over her mouth.
She stared up at him fearfully, every inch of her body sliding into spasms of terror.
He removed his hand and motioned to the body. “He’s dead.”
Katie slowly nodded, her eyes still wide with a look of terror.
Realization spread across Shaw’s features and then was replaced with anger.
“Check the body, it’s already cold.”
“No, that’s okay.”
He pushed her toward the bed.
“I believe you,” she said, turning back to him.
“No, you obviously don’t. So go see for yourself.”
She edged forward. Shaw followed her.
“He’s in full rigor,” he said. “That happens about twelve to twenty-four hours after death. I’ve only been in here for fifteen minutes.”
More curious than scared now, Katie touched the man’s arm. It was like a rock. His skin was ice.
“What killed him?”
He pointed to the pillow where she could see dried stains.
“Gunshot wound to the back of the head.”
She stepped back from the bed and gazed around the room. Shaw had a flashlight that he used to sweep the area. Furniture was overturned in here too and there were drawers pulled out and contents dumped on the floor.
“A struggle?” she said. “A search?”
Shaw pointed toward the closet. “Look at this.”