Page 10 of Breaking Rules

Reese poked her head into the squad room. “Chief, I just got a call from Alex’s landlord. He’s okay with us checking the apartment and will meet you there in half an hour.”

“Great,” Sam said. “Let's head out.”

Alex’s apartment was a short ride from the police station. The building manager, a tall man with a hawkish gaze and stiff posture, met them at the entrance. His eyes followed their every move, and he stayed close to the door as if guarding a secret.

As they entered the apartment, a faint smell of lemon-scented cleaner hung in the air. Lucy padded ahead, her nose twitching as she sniffed around the unfamiliar environment. The team moved with quiet efficiency, each step deliberate, their expressions a blend of professional focus and empathetic awareness.

The apartment’s stillness was eerie. Every surface was clean, every item in its place, creating an atmosphere that was strangely unsettling in its perfection.

The weight of their responsibility sat heavily on Sam’s shoulders. It was his job to get answers for the grieving parents, and he intended to do so.

“Let’s split up,” he directed, his voice low but commanding.

The team nodded, each member already knowing their role in this choreographed dance of investigation.

Sam headed to the bedroom, his shoes making a faint sound on the polished wooden floor. The room was as meticulously arranged as the rest of the apartment, the bed made with military precision, the closet doors closed.

As he opened the closet, a faint scent of cologne wafted out, a lingering hint of Alex’s presence. Sam scanned the neatly hung clothes, a mix of professional and casual wear, all arranged by color and style. The precision spoke of a controlled, orderly personality.

He then moved to the desk, a clean workspace with a laptop, neatly stacked papers, and a few pens lined up parallel to the keyboard. “Everything’s so organized,” he muttered to himself. He flipped through the papers, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Each document was filed, labeled, a testament to Alex’s meticulous nature.

Jo appeared in the bedroom doorway, her sharp hazel eyes taking in everything in one glance.

“I don’t see anything out of place,” she said. “The whole apartment is spotless. I bagged up the laptop for Wyatt to check out, but if someone had a reason to kill Alex, there’s no evidence of it here.”

Sam nodded, his jaw tightening. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting to find, but there was little here to tell them about Alex’s final day.

“Let’s go see if Kevin’s found anything,” Jo suggested.

They found Kevin in the second bedroom, focused intently on an open cardboard box on the floor. He held up a small photo, the colors faded with age.

“This fell out of this book.” Kevin lifted a heavy bible. “Looks like the box is from Frank Milson.”

Sam stepped closer, examining the old photo. Two men in their thirties sat at a table with paperwork in front of them. He imagined one of them must be the grandfather, Frank Milson. Frank had been a sewer worker, so he was probably the guy in the suit that was a little too large. The other man’s suit was more tailored. Sam wondered what they were discussing. A business venture?

Sam put the photo down and glanced into the box. It looked like a regular box of personal items. Books, a few pictures, some trinkets. Remembering Kevin’s earlier report about the costly monthly fees at Golden Pines, he said, “Maybe we’ll find something enlightening in here. Let’s bring it in for evidence.”

Just then, Lucy let out a sharp warning bark from the living room.

The team exchanged glances, immediately on alert. Jo rested her hand casually on her holstered gun as they headed toward the sound. Sam felt the familiar spike of adrenaline, his senses heightened.

They hurried into the living room, following Lucy’s insistent barks. She was pawing aggressively at the large area rug in the center of the room, her nails scratching at the fibers.

“What is it, girl? What do you see?” Sam knelt, examining the spot on which she was focused.

Lucy whined and barked again, nosing at the edge of the rug.

“I think she’s found something under there,” said Jo.

The landlord appeared in the doorway, his face pinched with irritation. “Now listen here, I won’t have you damaging my floors. This building is old, and these floors are hard to replace. If you start ripping up those boards, you’ll pay to have ’em fixed.”

Sam shot him a hard look. “This is police business. We’re investigating a homicide.”

The landlord pressed his lips together but refrained from making further complaints.

Sam stood and motioned for Kevin to help him. Together, they grasped the corner of the heavy rug and dragged it aside, revealing the weathered hardwood floor beneath.

Lucy immediately began pawing at one of the boards, her nails scraping urgently.

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