Murder Stalks Read Free

hated the smell that came from them, but the pulse of
his life was catching criminals.
    His stomach clenched as he walked into the
tiny apartment, reminding him that a life could be taken anywhere
and from anybody. He scanned the place. Two picture frames sat on
the bar. One held a happy family at a theme park, the other a group
of girls at the beach holding drinks. A shabby orange sofa sat next
to an old milk crate with a piece of painted plywood used for a
tabletop. Above the sofa a neon sign hung, sporting a green and
yellow palm tree. ‘Angela’s Beach’ was scrawled across the bottom
in blue.
    “ Do we have a positive ID
on the victim?” Tony asked.
    “ Not yet. The manager
called it in.” Rex took out his Blackberry and read from the
screen. “Said he was doing a visual inspection of the place.
Cracked the door open and smelled the stench. Said he saw her hand
sticking out from behind the bedroom door. He ran back to his
office and called it in. That’s all he told us. He didn’t see her
face. We’re still looking for a picture ID.”
    Jeans, t-shirt, panties and a black lace bra
were dumped on the floor of the living room. Tony looked around,
searching for any other clothing. He stared at the top of a
chipped, metal desk where Rex carefully pulled open the drawers,
searching their contents. The place was clean. There wasn’t even a
light dusting of particles that he knew usually stayed settled on
the top of his dresser at home. Dusting wasn’t his forte, and after
Marissa left, the thin dirt layer had grown thick, but this
apartment was spotless.
    A glass containing brown liquid sat on the
kitchen countertop. That was the only indicator that someone had
actually lived here, that and the clothes on the floor. Tony made a
note to collect the liquid from the glass and bag the clothes after
Janice Owens showed up to photograph the room. The lack of dust on
the flat surfaces disturbed him. Maybe Angela was a neat freak and
dusted every day.
    He glanced into the bedroom. The killer had
positioned the poor girl’s body. Tony rolled his shoulders, easing
the knots forming in his muscles. A chill settled over him. Just
knowing a dead girl lay in the other room, cut down before the
prime of her life, twisted his gut. An image of Ashley flashed into
his mind. It hadn’t been the same, not murder at all, but he was
her daddy and now she was gone. He steeled himself against the
barrage of memories, refusing to let the past stop him from doing
his job.
    He paused next to the crime scene kit to
pull green booties over his shoes before heading into the bedroom.
A sliver of apprehension held him back. “It’s not her,” he
whispered. The memory of Ashley’s tiny body, broken and ripped
apart, shot to the front of his mind. His blond haired sprite of a
daughter was gone, and this girl, this victim, hadn’t been killed
by a ravaging mountain lion. Cold hard murder, that’s why he was
here.
    A dim bulb hung in the center of the room,
casting a dismal glow. Tony pulled a small flashlight from his hip,
sending a narrow beam of light on the walls. He would ask Rex to
set up a couple of spot lamps after the initial walkthrough.
    Tony swiveled his head, keeping his eyes off
the floor where the victim lay. He scanned for anything out of
place, something off kilter, or otherwise incongruent with how a
nineteen-year old college student kept house. No expensive jewelry
decorated the top of the dresser. However, he did spy a thin gold
chain with a jewel-filled pendant hanging from a hook next to the
mirror. Diamonds? Without a jeweler’s help, he could only guess at
their value.
    A set of keys served as a paperweight for a
pair of twenties. From his years an investigator, he knew thieves
usually took all the cash they could get their hands on.
    Finally, after he’d finished looking
everywhere else and couldn’t delay the inevitable, his eyes dipped
to the floor.
    She was a young Caucasian, presumably Angela
from the neon