Page 7 of The Writer

Declan lowers the book, gives the body a quick glance, then meets her eyes. “Do you know who might want to hurt David?”

She sucks in a deep breath, and for a second Declan thinks the tears might come, but there’s nothing.

Not a damn thing.

CHAPTER SIX

THE TWO OFFICERS tasked with securing the apartment return, their weapons holstered. Declan knows one of them, a heavyset guy with a strawberry birthmark on his neck. Estes. The other guy’s name tag readsORTEGA.

They motion for Declan to come over.

“Give me a second,” he tells Denise Morrow.

Speaking low, Estes says, “Nobody here. We found the door off the main bedroom standing open, but it leads to a private terrace. We’re in the tower. There’s no place to go. No fire escape. No secondary rooftop in jumping distance.”

“What about other terraces?”

“These apartments are all oversize. They got high ceilings. Next terrace is a good twelve to fourteen feet down. Could bedone, but this ain’t no Marvel movie. Maybe with some sort of gear, but—”

“Go down there and check it out anyway. The one in the penthouse too,” Declan tells them. “They ask what’s going on, just say there was a report of an intruder in the building. Not a word about Mr. Morrow here. Got it?”

Estes nods.

“Anything seem out of place to either of you? Missing? Tossed?”

Ortega shakes his head. “Nothing. No open drawers. Jewelry laid out nice and neat on the dresser looks untouched. Computers and stereo still here. Either we got an incompetent burglar, or this is the neatest B and E I’ve ever seen.”

Estes adds, “Maybe your perp came in for something specific. Maybe the mister was some kind of target. Or…”

Or Mrs. Morrow cashed in her hubby’s chips.It’s impossible not to think it.

When they start for the door, Declan tells them, “Send CSU in. I want to get this on L-Tron before anything gets moved.”

“You got it.”

Declan returns to Denise and drops to a knee again. “Did you leave your terrace door open? The one off your bedroom?”

She shakes her head.

“The apartment is clear. There’s nobody here, but they found your terrace door open. I’ve asked them to discreetly check with your neighbors. See if anyone jumped or exited from adjacent apartments.”

Her large brown eyes drift to the floor, then back to him. “Okay,” she manages. “Can I… can I get up now?”

“I’d like a medic to take a look at you before you move. Justto be sure you’re all right,” he says in his most reassuring voice. “It will only be another minute.”

A CSU tech dressed in a white protective jumpsuit steps into the room and begins setting up a tripod with an odd-looking camera fixed to the top.

“This is called an L-Tron. It will capture a three-D rendering of this room,” Declan says. “Once we have that, we can revisit this space exactly as it is now should we need to do so.”

Like at trial, his mind mutters.A 3D image of Mrs. Morrow sitting here on the floor covered in blood next to her husband’s dead body with the murder weapon between them will do nicely when it comes time to prosecute this.

“Ready, Detective,” the CSU tech tells him.

“Please remain perfectly still, Mrs. Morrow. This will only take a moment. We’ll be right outside the door.”

“You… want me to stay here?”

“It’s important we preserve the scene. It will just take a second, I promise. I’ll check on that medic for you. Try not to move.”

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