Porter pulled open the flimsy screen door and knocked on the front door.
Mackenzie stood beside him, waiting, heart pounding. She could feel her palms begin to sweat.
A few seconds passed before she heard approaching footsteps. There came the clicking of a lock being disengaged, the door opened a little more than a crack, and Clive Traylor looked out at them. He looked confused – and then very alarmed.
“Can I help you?” Traylor asked.
“Mr. Traylor,” Porter said, “I’m Detective Porter and this is Detective White. If you have a moment, we’d like to speak with you.”
“In regards to what?” Traylor asked, instantly defensive.
“About a crime that was committed two nights ago,” Porter said. “We just have a few questions and as long as you answer honestly, we’ll be out of your hair in five or ten minutes.”
Traylor seemed to consider this for a moment. Mackenzie was pretty sure she knew the train of logic that was chugging through his head. He was a registered sex offender, and any resistance to help the police when they asked for it would raise alarms and maybe even further investigation into Traylor’s current activities.
And that was the last thing a man like Clive Traylor wanted.
“Yeah, come on in,” Traylor finally said, clearly not pleased with the situation. Still, he opened the door and led them into a house that looked like a college dorm room.
There were books stacked everywhere, empty beer cans strewn here and there, and piles of clothes sporadically placed on any available surface. The place smelled like Traylor had recently burned something on the stove.
He led them into his small living room, and Mackenzie took it all in, analyzing everything at rapid speed to determine if this were the house of a killer. There were more clothes bundled up on the couch and the coffee table was littered with dirty dishes and a laptop. Seeing such disarray made Mackenzie realize that maybe Zack’s living habits weren’t as bad as she had thought. Traylor did not ask them to have a seat – which was good, because there was no way Mackenzie was going to sit anywhere in this house.
“Thanks for your time,” Porter said. “As I said, there was a crime committed two nights ago – a murder. We’re here because you have a rather shaky past with the victim.”
“Who was it?” Traylor asked.
Mackenzie watched him closely, studying his facial expressions and posture, hoping she’d find some clues there. So far, all she could tell was that he was very uncomfortable having police inside his house.
“A woman named Hailey Lizbrook.”
Traylor seemed to think about this for a second and then shook his head.
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Are you sure?” Porter asked. “We have proof that she placed a restraining order against you last year.”
Realization dawned over him and he rolled his eyes.
“Oh. Her. I never knew her name.”
“But you knew where she lived?” Mackenzie asked.
“I did,” Traylor said. “Yeah, I followed her home from the Runway a few times. I had policemen come to my house and talk to me about that. But I haven’t gone against that order. I swear it.”
“So you don’t deny that you stalked her at some point?” Porter asked.
Mackenzie saw the embarrassment flush over Traylor and her heart dropped. She was pretty certain this was not their man.
“No. I’ll admit that. But after that restraining order, I stayed away. I even stopped going to that strip club.”
“Okay,” Porter said. “Can you tell me where you were two nights ago?”
“Well, I worked until nine o’clock and then I came home. I watched some TV and went to bed around midnight.”
“Do you have proof of that?” Porter asked.
Traylor looked taken off guard, trying to come up with a suitable answer. “Hell, I don’t know. I logged into my bank account online. Can you use that?”
“We can,” Porter said, pointing to the laptop on the coffee table. “Show us.”
Traylor started wrestling with something in that moment. He slowly reached for the computer but then hesitated. “That’s, well, that’s a breach of my privacy. Come back with a warrant and I’ll – ”
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” Porter said. “We’ve got more officers outside and I can have them in here within thirty seconds. We already have a warrant. So make this as easy as possible and show me your browsing history.”
Traylor was practically sweating now. Mackenzie was pretty sure he was not the murderer, but he was certainly hiding something.
“What’s the problem?” Mackenzie asked.
“You’ll have to get that information directly from my bank,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because there’s no trace of my history on this computer.”
Porter stepped forward and repeated his earlier command. “Show us.”
Mackenzie and Porter stood around Traylor, one on each side. Mackenzie watched closely, noticing that Traylor pulled up his browser very quickly. Still, Mackenzie had seen his home screen and was pretty sure she had seen enough.
She stepped away from Traylor as he showed Porter that his search history was at zero. She also listened to him explain to Porter that he always deleted his browsing history to get rid of cookies and junk in his cache. She let Porter discuss this age-old excuse with him while she peeked out into his hallway. There were no pictures on his walls, just clutter on the floor along the walls. Among the mess, she saw an empty box that raised an alarm.
Mackenzie walked back into the living room as the conversation between Porter and Traylor continued to get a little more heated.
“Excuse me,” she said, speaking over them. “Mr. Traylor, I don’t doubt you. I’m fairly certain you had nothing to do with the murder of Hailey Lizbrook. I will tell you that a lot of factors were pointing to you, right down to the poles behind your shed out back. But no, I don’t think you killed anyone.”
“Thank you,” he spat sarcastically.
“White,” Porter said, “what are you – ”
“But I am going to need you to tell me what other inappropriate things you’ve been involved in.”
He looked surprised, almost insulted. “Nothing,” he said. “I know my record isn’t stellar. Once you’re a registered sex offender, your life never goes back to the way it was. People look at you differently and – ”
“Save it, please,” Mackenzie said. “Are you sure you haven’t been involved in anything you shouldn’t?”
“I swear it.”
Mackenzie nodded and then looked to Porter with a thin smile. “Detective Porter, would you like to cuff him or should I do it?”
Before he could answer, though, Traylor was on the move. He collided with Mackenzie, trying to knock her down and make his way to the hall. He clearly hadn’t been expecting her to be so solid, though. She braced her feet and locked her knees as Traylor rammed into her, causing him to rebound in confusion.
“Shit,” Porter muttered, fumbling for his service pistol.
As he scrambled for his gun, Mackenzie threw a hard elbow into Traylor’s chest as he tried to pivot around her. He let out a whoof and gave her a surprised look. He started dropping to a knee, but before it even touched the floor, Mackenzie grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him down to the floor.
Traylor cried out as Mackenzie planted a knee into his back and whipped out her handcuffs like a magician working with handkerchiefs.
“Never mind,” Mackenzie said, cutting her eyes at Porter. “I’ll do it.”