Page 30 of Exhale
Through Jordan’s research, the man had found that Ginny and Mark had only been dating for five months.
Owen’s heart sank when he spotted crime scene tape on the front door of Gumball’s house.
“Shit,” he muttered.
Jordan jumped out when he parked the SUV, and Owen hurried out and around to join the man as they walked up the walkway.
Detective Knoll pulled up in a nondescript four-door sedan and got out with Preston at his side.
Owen had called Knoll on his way here.
“What’s this?” Owen gestured to the crime tape.
“Mark Gumball was shot in the head and died instantly five days ago. The body’s in the morgue,” Knoll said.
“This has to be related to Ginny’s death,” Owen said flatly.
Knoll nodded. “I agree.”
The detective unlocked the front door of the house and then motioned for Owen and Jordan to go inside first.
Owen reached through the tape and pushed the door open wider before ducking beneath the yellow strips and entering with Jordan on his six.
Knoll and Preston came in last.
The place smelled like rotten food, mold, and death.
Children’s toys lay scattered about. Empty beer cans and trash cluttered the top of the coffee table in front of a shabby brown couch, and the counters, from what he could see in the kitchen, were in the same sorry state.
“Did they say anything about recovering Ginny’s kids from this scene?”
Knoll frowned at him. “No.”
“Check on it.”
Knoll immediately got on his cell phone. Preston stayed with Knoll while he and Jordan searched the place.
In one of the two bedrooms, they found white lines of drugs on a mirror, along with a rolled-up dollar bill and a thin accesscard. More beer cans and bottles were spread over the dresser and on the floor.
Jordan made a face and backed out of the room, and waited for him in the hallway. Owen searched the master bathroom quickly and then followed Jordan.
“Did your ex do drugs?” Jordan asked.
“No, not while we were together.”
“I’m starting to suspect that she hung out with the wrong crowd.”
“Me too,” Owen said with a nod and walked back into the living room.
Knoll got off the phone just as they entered and shook his head. “No kids were recovered at this scene, but they have a suspect in the shooting.”
“Who?”
“A William Danner, goes by Billy. He ran an international prostitution ring for a while before moving on to chemical distribution and trafficking weapons. He served four years on weapons charges,” Knoll said, reading from his phone.
“That’s all?” Owen squinted.
Knoll tucked his phone away with a sigh. “Seems like none of the other charges stuck.”
