Page 34 of Criminology of a Character

“That’s an idea,” Bel said as she aimed for the second floor. Despite the damaged wall, the house had been deemedstructurally sound, but she hadn’t ventured upstairs when Walker was first found.

“This bathroom looks used,” Olivia said as they passed the hallway restroom. “Toothbrush in the holder, and a half-empty toothpaste and mouthwash.” She flipped on the light and pointed to the sink as Bel followed her lead. “Tissues are in the trash, too.”

“Most of these rooms seem unused, except for this one,” Bel said as she wandered into the master bedroom. “There’s a dent in the pillow and dirty clothes in the hamper.”

“No hairs on the pillow, though.” Olivia leaned down to study the bedding. “No hairs anywhere. I guess our squatter was a neat freak.”

“Yeah…” Bel trailed off, the comment nagging at her. “Does it strike you as too clean?” She walked to the hamper. “This house is spotless and organized. The toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash all sat in a row. The hanging towels were uniform. This bed is made. There are no hairs, no dust, no fingerprints, yet the closet door is open, and the hamper is a mess. What person obsessed with cleanliness and order would leave their laundry basket so haphazard?”

“Maybe he fled in a rush after packing?” Olivia suggested. “If the killer lived in this home, he probably strove to keep it clean in case he ever had to flee. He could vanish at the drop of a hat, leaving nothing of himself behind.”

“Hmmm.” With a gloved hand, Bel nudged the closet door to reveal an indent in the carpet. “Or this was purposely left open,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Olivia crossed the room to check what Bel was studying.

“This indent. The door hasn’t been shut in a long time. The house is neat, but this closet was left chaotic. Almost as if someone wanted potential intruders to notice the dirty laundryand assume someone lived here. It makes sense. No one noticed Walker was missing, and his house appearing lived in would discourage suspicion.”

“What are you saying?” Olivia asked. “Everything is for show?”

“I don’t know.” Bel stood up and made a beeline for the stairs, her partner rushing to keep up. When they reached the first floor, she aimed for the kitchen before stopping short in the damaged living room. “Do you see that?” She pointed to the wall.

“See what?”

“The outlets.” She walked to the one beside the television. “This is a smart outlet. They have multiple uses, but one is security for when people are out of town but want to appear at home. You program the switch to activate at certain times of the day, and whatever’s plugged into the outlet turns on.”

“This one connects to the lamp and the television,” Olivia said, spinning toward the windows. “The curtains are sheer, but you can see light through them. Anyone outside would see the flashes from the TV and assume someone was home. It seems excessive out here in the middle of nowhere, though. The only people driving this far are those who would knock. The TV wouldn’t convince them if no one answered the door.”

“I don’t know.” Bel moved into the kitchen. “People use them for other reasons, but it fits the staged hamper theory.”

“You mentioned there was food in the fridge,” Olivia said as she leaned over the sink. “Dirty dishes. Someone was eating here.” She picked up a bowl and held it up to the light. “Or someone wanted us to believe they were. Bel, does this look weird to you?”

She glanced at the bowl. “It looks like food remnants.”

“But I think it’s paint.” Olivia swiped a finger over the ceramic. “Someone painted this to appear dirty. What on earth is going on?”

“Let me see.” Bel took the dish from her and dragged her fingertips around its curves. “You’re right. It’s paint, not food. This house has been staged.” She gripped the refrigerator door and pulled it open. Cool air floated out, and she studied the eggs, the carton of milk, and the various condiments. Apples and lemons wrapped in clear bags sat in the drawers, and she dug out an apple. “It’s décor,” she said as she twisted the fake fruit. It appeared real with the plastic bag and drawer obscuring its flaws, but there was no hiding the wooden sheen up close.

“And there are tiny holes in these eggs.” Olivia held the carton up for Bel to examine. “Someone hollowed these out.”

“Everything in here is a prop.” Bel unscrewed the milk bottle, and unsurprisingly, she found watery paint instead of milk. She then opened the freezer to find a stack of frozen dinners, but one rattle told her the boxes were empty.

“This is all for show.” She re-stacked the packages. “This house tricks people into believing it’s lived in, but everything is fake.”

“It’s clean, though, so someone must stop by occasionally,” Olivia said.

“And the car outside has been moved to keep the grass from dying,” Bel agreed. “But everything else operates without needing someone physically present on the property. Whoever killed Walker went to great lengths to convince people he’s still alive.”

“That’s bizarre,”Griffin said after Bel finished recounting what she and Olivia found. “But so is what I learned, and it makes a lot more sense now. I called the electric company and the local tax agents. They requested warrants, but I got the judge to sign one quickly, and then both confirmed who was paying Walker’s bills.”

“Who?” the detectives asked in unison.

“Harris Walker,” Griffin said.

“Walker?” Bel repeated, convinced that her phone’s speaker had distorted her boss’s voice.

“Yes, Walker,” he confirmed. “He was paying his own bills.”

“How does a dead man pay bills?” Olivia asked. “Unless he had an automatic deposit set up, but after years, wouldn’t something trigger suspicion?”

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