Page 23 of Every Which Way

Davis said, “I’ll go talk to the manager about the security tape. You take her up there.” He looked at Kenna. “No touching anything.”

She nodded. “I know the rules.”

Kenna and Langford headed for the stairs and up to the second floor. She glanced over at the female detective. “How long have you two been partners?”

“Six years now.” Langford stowed her cell back in a clip on her belt. “First time in Denver?”

“You know what?” Kenna said. “I have no idea.”

Langford glanced over.

Kenna shrugged. “Maybe we came here when I was a kid. My dad and I drove around a lot, and he worked cases. We pretty much lived on the road.”

“I’ve heard a little. Davis is the one who knew who you were the minute your name popped as a familial match. He’d never tell you this, but he’s a huge fan of your dad’s books. He’s in this group on social media that speculates about the true cases behind the ones your father wrote about. I guess it’s like a fan club.”

Kenna said, “If you say so.” She had no interest in notoriety—or speculation. The truth was hard enough to grasp. And that was without a group of people she didn’t know going down rabbit trails of guessing.

“Nothing? No social media?”

“I guess not nothing.” Maizie had set up some accounts to funnel people in the right direction if they genuinely needed help. “But there’s enough going on in the real world to keep me occupied.”

Langford chuckled. “That’s true.” She drew out a set of keys and unlocked the padlock on the door, then pushed it open.

Kenna had to duck under the crime scene tape.

“Stick by the door. Don’t make me go get my booties from the car.”

“Got it,” Kenna said. “I just wanted to take a look.”

“No photos.”

Kenna glanced at her. “How about a light?”

“The switch is to your right.”

Someone had replaced the regular bulbs with red ones, casting an odd glow across the room. “Interesting.”

“That’s what I thought,” Langford said. “Tell me what else you notice.”

Kenna shone her camera flashlight around. “The bed was largely untouched. Maybe they weren’t here for long enough or weren’t here for that. Did you get an ID back on the second set of DNA?”

“Male, a few parameters other than that. But nothing popped as far as an ID. He isn’t in our system, the federal database, or military.”

“Hmm.” She kept shining the flashlight around, scanning the room where she could see it. Definitely not a full picture, given she couldn’t walk through the place. “Bathroom?”

“Untouched.”

“Security video?”

“That’s what Davis is getting. Whoever was in here was incapacitated.”

So they were subdued, apparently in a way that cost them a lot of blood, and then taken away? Perhaps for the killer to bury them elsewhere. Or they were going to continue the party.

Kenna said, “Maybe they needed them together, and this was the only way to manage it. Or these two were just unlucky.”

They might have been specifically targeted or chosen completely at random. Most killers who intentionally set up a death chose the victim because they fit the need. Stalking them. Preparing. Incidents like this weren’t usually random, but the mess with this scene could indicate something went wrong.

“You think they fought back?” She didn’t see any destroyed furniture.

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