Page 4 of Over the Edge

The officer shrugged. “Spooked may be more accurate. I ran him, and he’s clean. But he’s got a major case of nerves. Could be a natural reaction to finding himself in the middle of a murder investigation, could be more. That determination is above my pay grade.” He flashed a grin.

“Thanks for the input.”

“Anytime. You want me to unlock the cruiser?” He pulled out his keys.

“Not yet. I’ll do a quick walk-through first.”

“Make it fast unless you want Hank to be all over you.” He motioned to a Crime Scene Unit van as it took the corner up the street faster than was prudent, with a slight screech of tires.

Yeah, that was Hank. The cantankerous tech was the only CSU investigator who drove like the hounds of hell were after him. If he wasn’t so skilled at what he did, he’d have beencanned years ago for his tendency to ding up vehicles—and for his nonexistent people skills.

“I’m on it. Stall Hank if you can.”

Meyers snorted. “I’ll try, but don’t hold your breath.”

Jack took off for the house at a jog, stopping at the back door to slip a pair of booties over his shoes and snap on latex gloves.

The interior was quiet as he entered. No surprise. The responding officers congregated around the perimeter knew better than to traipse around inside and risk compromising a crime scene. Only two stood guard in the kitchen, conversing in low tones.

He acknowledged them with a dip of his head and circled the island.

The scene was exactly as Meyers had described it, and if the woman who’d reported the crime was correct, the victim was the homeowner. A wallet would help confirm that, but until someone from the medical examiner’s office got here and Hank worked the scene, it was safer not to touch the body.

He pulled out his phone and did a quick Google search. Everyone had an internet presence these days. Especially the movers and shakers who tended to live on estates like this one.

Identity verified. The victim was James Robertson.

He edged closer to the body. No murder weapon had been left in plain sight, but the location and quantity of blood suggested either a knife or bullet wound to the front midsection.

After giving the rest of the kitchen a fast perusal, he signaled one of the officers to join him and did a quick walk-through of the house.

Nothing but the bedroom raised red flags. In the master suite, dresser drawers were pulled out, a few pieces of clothing lay puddled on the floor, and the walk-in closet door was ajar.

Jack crossed to it.

The doors of a free-standing jewelry armoire were open, and many of the hooks inside were empty.

It was possible the homeowner had interrupted a robbery, and—

Voices spoke in the vicinity of the kitchen, and Jack retraced his steps.

Hank glared at him as he entered. “I hope you’re not mucking up my crime scene.”

“Perish the thought. I have booties and gloves.” He lifted his foot and wiggled his fingers.

“Hmph.” Hank pulled a baseball cap out of his kit and yanked it over his flyaway gray hair. “Lacey here yet?”

“I haven’t seen her.” But in light of past experience, the assistant ME wouldn’t be far behind.

“I’ll have to work around the body.”

“You could start in the bedroom at the end of the hall.” Jack waved that direction. “There was activity there.”

“We have a warrant yet?”

“In the works.”

Hank hefted his kit and brushed past. “Get out as soon as you’re done. I don’t want any contamination in here. You too.” He poked a finger in one officer’s chest as he passed. “We don’t need two of you hanging around.”

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