Brinley wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It stinks in here.”
“It sure as hell does so let’s get to it so we can get out of here. First rule, don’t touch anything.”
“No problem,” she retorted, eyeing a plate encrusted with something that looked like spaghetti with a layer of green mold. Acid rose in her throat and she shuddered at the thought of what might be buried in these piles. “I wasn’t planning to, believe me.”
Jason pulled a set of rubber gloves from his back pocket. He’d retrieved them from a case in the back of his truck when they’d arrived at the Gaines home. She’d thought it strange at the time but now it made perfect sense.
Evidence. She needed to be more cognizant of that little detail.
“Here’s my phone.” He handed her his cell. “You can take pictures.”
“Of anything in particular?”
“When I ask you to. I don’t have a warrant and I doubt they’ll allow me to take anything, so if we find something interesting we’re going to have to take a picture of it.”
Jason waded through the stacks of laundry on the bed and floor, tossing things aside until he’d dug all the way to the mattress. A white shirt landed on top of the ever growing pile and Brinley froze when she saw a large red stain.
“Wait. Is that…blood?”
Jason frowned and picked up the discarded shirt to examine it more closely. He spread out the fabric and even sniffed at it, making her stomach turn at the thought of doing the same.
“You’ve found something alright.”
Maybe a clue. Something that would tell her why Roger Gaines had her address. She leaned forward over the garment that was laid out on the bed.
“What did I find?” she whispered, her heart beating fast in her chest.
“A ketchup stain. That’s never going to come out. He might as well have tossed the shirt in the garbage.”
Brinley’s head whipped around and her gaze landed on Jason, who was having a difficult time not bursting into laughter. His lips twitched and his green eyes danced with mischief.
This was so not funny.
Slapping his arm, she let out a groan of frustration. “Don’t be an ass. I was only trying to help.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. Really.”
She rolled her eyes and followed him as he worked his way to the desk area. He pointed to the stacks of books and papers. “If we’re going to find anything important it will probably be here.”
Brinley certainly hoped so. So far this entire trip had been a big waste of time.
Jason held up two heavy books. “Now here is something interesting. Books on forensic science. Gaines was a psychology major, so what would he be doing with these? Let’s get pictures of them.”
Brinley snapped each of the books with Jason’s cell as he sifted through a stack of papers, holding up a few.
“Information about handguns and blood splatter. What the hell? It looks like Gaines had more than a passing interest in criminology. Maybe he was using his degree to study criminal behavior.”
She snapped a few more pictures and peered into the bookcase next to the desk. There were several binders and she almost reached for one but pulled back just in time.
“Oops. That was close. Can you see what’s in these? It looks like they are one of the few things in this room that was organized.”
“I thought you didn’t want to touch anything in here.” Jason pulled the three binders from their spot on the shelf, sending up a puff of dust. Brinley sneezed as Jason flipped open the first one and paged through the contents. “It looks like information on a serial killer case in Florida. These last pages show an arrest and an upcoming trial.”
The two other binders held basically the same items except for different cases. Grisly photos and explicit details were not the norm for Brinley in her everyday life. She was used to macaroni art projects and stories about the family pet.
The picture she was getting of Roger Gaines was turning creepy. A young man who had lost his ambition and had turned to absorbing everything he could find about crime and violence instead.
“Do you think someone killed him in self-defense?” she asked, looking around the room again. Had Roger’s mind been as messy and cluttered as his room? “Do you think he stopped reading and started doing?”
“Are you asking if Roger Gaines was studying to be a killer?” Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so. It looks like he was studying to become a profiler. Remember, there was no struggle in Gaines’s room so it’s highly unlikely it was self-defense.”
“This is still weird. He was obsessed with murder. And then he was murdered.”
“The question is does one have anything to do with the other or is this a macabre coincidence?”
“My mother once told my brother that coincidences were only facts not known yet.”
Jason quirked an eyebrow. “Interesting observation. What brought it on?”
Brinley smiled as she remembered the occasion. “The parents of Dan’s friends all called our house one Sunday morning before church. All their sons had spent the night with Dan out in the tent in the backyard and were now sicker than a dog and puking their guts up. So was Dan, by the way. Mom and Dad had been out of town the night before so of course they questioned my brother. Dan tried to convince my parents that it was just an amazing coincidence. Mom and Dad thought there was more to the situation that they weren’t aware of. Turns out there was a keg of beer, and a party too.”
“Ah, those pesky facts. They do give our secrets away.” Jason chuckled and motioned to the untouched side of the room. “Let’s see if we can get a few more of those facts. But that story has a good lesson in it. Friends know many more secrets than family ever does. We definitely need to talk to Brad Enright. My hope is that he can give some context to what we’ve found today. Hell, maybe he knows why Roger had your address. He might be the type to confide everything to someone he was close to.”
“Are we almost done here? I’m beginning to get used to the smell and that worries me.”
Jason chuckled, the sound low and deep. “We can’t have that. Let’s get this done and get out of here. I don’t like invading the Gaines’s privacy at a time like this any more than we have to.”
Their visit had only created more questions and hadn’t answered any of the ones they’d already had. Solving this murder wasn’t going to be as easy as Brinley had hoped.
She might never find out why Roger Gaines had her address in his hand when he died.
Chapter Seven
‡
Jason climbed back into his truck with a defeated sigh. A visit to Enright Luxury Cars had proved to be fruitless. Brad Enright was in Denver and had been for the last week at a sales conference. He was expected back late tonight and would be in his office tomorrow morning.
Warning bells had gone off in Jason’s ears when he’d heard Roger’s friend wasn’t in Billings. Out of town was a good alibi. If he’d truly been in Denver, that is.
“So?” Brinley asked, looking at him expectantly.
He had to admit she’d been a good sport today. Other than the whole smell thing at the Gaines home she hadn’t bitched or complained once. The stench had been awful. He’d tried to play it off like it was nothing, but he’d had trouble keeping down his pancakes. It wouldn’t have surprised him if they’d found another dead body in that room.
“Brad Enright isn’t here. He won’t be back until tomorrow. We can talk to him then.”
“We’re coming back in the morning?”
“I’m coming back. You’re welcome to join me if you like.”