Jack stopped near where they'd found Hill's body. He ran a gloved finger along the floor and showed them a finely ground dust, dark brown.
Mia immediately sensed a change in Solliday as he grabbed Jack's hand and held it up to the light. "Blood," he said, then looked back at Mia. "Or it was. At temperatures of this fire, the proteins begin to degrade. It was too dark to see this last night."
"There was a lot of blood," Jack said. "It soaked through the seams in the linoleum."
Mia stared at the floor, in her mind seeing Hill's body as they'd found it, curled up in a fetal ball, her wrists still bound together. "So he shot her, too?"
Jack shrugged. "Barrington could tell you for sure."
"You find any prints in that blood?" she asked.
"No." Jack stood up. "We haven't found any prints anywhere. He probably wore gloves. But…" He led them to the front door. "Look here."
The doorknob had a brown smear. "He came out this way with bloody hands," Solliday said. "It's consistent with the neighbor's story. He heard tires squeal, then saw Hill's car tearing down the street."
Jack tapped the air above the newel post. "Now look here."
Mia got close to the wood, then looked up at Solliday. "Brown hair caught in the wood grain. They fought here."
"Just like Caitlin," Solliday murmured.
"We'll bag that and take it in," Jack said "The brown hair has gray roots, so I'm thinking it's your victim's and not the killer Sorry."
"I wouldn't think she'd be strong enough to knock his head into the newel post," Mia agreed as she pushed at the front door, checking out the tree-lined front porch. The evergreens had been badly burnt but neighbors had told her that the trees had been full and thick. "You didn't find any evidence of forced entry on the back door, did you?"
"None," Jack confirmed.
"Char patterns indicate the back door was closed through the fire," Solliday added.
"Then he probably came in through the front. He could have easily concealed himself behind those trees and waited for her to come home. It's late. She's tired. I talked to her supervisor this morning when I called to get her next-of-kin info. He said she'd had a little too much of the punch at her retirement party. When I first called he thought I was calling to say she'd been hauled in for DUI."
"So she's unsteady on her feet," Jack said. "He waits for her to open the front door, then pushes in behind her and knocks her into the post."
"He surprised Caitlin inside the house. He was waiting for Penny outside in the cold. Why didn't he just break in?" Mia scanned the wall. "I don't see an alarm panel."
"There isn't one," Solliday said. "Here or on the back door."
"That doesn't make sense," she said with a frown. "He waits for her outside in twenty-degree weather, pushes his way in, overpowers her, then forces her to the kitchen where he shoots her, sets the place on fire, then steals her car."
"We found her car yet?" Jack asked.
"Not yet." Mia looked around the foyer. "Did you sweep this area?"
"Twice," Jack said dryly. "Debris's on its way to the lab."
She ignored his tone. "Did you find a shopping bag of presents? Or a briefcase?"
"No, neither."
"Her supervisor said she left the party at 11:15 last night with a bag full of gifts and her briefcase. He thought we'd find her Day Planner in the briefcase."
"It was late," Solliday said. "Maybe she left the bags in her car."
"Maybe." Mia drew in a breath. "I'd sure as hell like to have her Day Planner."
Jack made a sympathetic grimace. "No chance she had GPS in her car?"
"No. Her car was ten years old and her son said she didn't have any fancy electronics." She blew out a breath. "I'm still stuck on why he waited for her here. Why didn't he break in the back door like he did at the Doughertys' house? It's not like she had a big… Hell. Wait." Quickly she walked back to the kitchen, and carefully stepped her way across the grid to the cabinet. It had collapsed along with the counter. Glass and ceramic pieces littered the floor. "Did you check through this stuff yet, Ben?"
"Not yet," Ben said.
Mia crouched down and started picking through the pottery.
Jack crouched down next to her. "What are you looking for?"
"Something like… this." She pulled a thick fragment out of the pile, between her thumb and forefinger. She wiped the fragment clean and held it up. "Paw print."
Solliday sucked in one cheek. "A dog dish. She had a dog."
"Who is AWOL," Mia said flatly. "I don't get this guy. He lays in wait for this woman, shoots her and leaves her to burn, but he spares the dog just like he spared Percy."
"He doesn't fit the profile," Solliday said. "Most arsonists would have killed the pets."
"None of the neighbors mentioned a dog," Mia said. "Why not?"
Solliday's brows rose. "Let's ask them."
"I have Mr. Wright's number." She dialed her cell. "Mr. Wright? This is Detective Mitchell. I talked to you last night. I have a question. Did Mrs. Hill have a dog?"
"No, but her daughter did. I didn't even think… Oh, God, that poor animal. He was a nice dog, too. Her daughter's apartment didn't allow dogs, so Penny kept the dog."
"Daughter's dog," Mia mouthed. "What kind of dog is it, Mr. Wright?"
"Golden retriever, Great Dane mix. He was huge, but friendly. Penny would joke…"
Mia could hear him take a shuddering breath. "She would joke what?" she asked.
"That the dog was so friendly it would lead a burglar to the silver for a Milkbone."
"Mr. Wright, if you see him wandering the neighborhood, can you call me? Thank you." She hung up with a sigh. "Big dog. Dane-golden mix. That's why he waited. The dog was big. He thought he was vicious."
"But he didn't shoot him when he had the chance." Solliday commented.
"Have you talked to the daughter?" Jack asked.
"No. I called a half dozen times and we stopped by her apartment, but the landlord said she hadn't been home since Saturday morning. Her car's gone."
"You checked the inside of her place?"
"Under the circumstances we thought it was prudent," Solliday said. "But she wasn't there. Her answering machine was flashing with a number of calls. Mia called for a warrant, so if we don't hear from her in a few hours, we'll go back."
Mia blinked, a little startled at hearing him use her first name. He'd started calling Jack by his first name, too. Apparently the lieutenant was feeling more at home. Unfortunately Mia wasn't ready to let him settle in. She was still Abe's partner.
But before she could reply, Solliday's cell phone rang. "It's Barrington," he told them. "What do you have, Sam?" He listened for a moment. "We'll be right down." He flipped his phone closed, his mouth gone flat. "He's got something."
Tuesday, November 28, 1:35 p.m.
"He's autopsying somebody else's case right now," Sam's tech told them, motioning to the door. "You can go in and talk to him through the glass."
"Can't he come out here?" Mitchell asked, then squared her jaw. "I just ate, okay?"
The tech chuckled. "I'll tell him you're here."
"Hill's body is going to be worse than an autopsy," Reed cautioned quietly.
"1 know. I remember." She closed her eyes for a second, just long enough for a shudder to shake her. "I hate to watch them cutting. I know it makes me a wuss, but-"
"It's all right, Mia," he interrupted.
"So we're on a first name basis now," she said. "I thought you'd slipped before. You must have decided to keep me after all," she added, her voice hard with sarcasm.