Page 4 of Midnight Secrets

Eyes huge, I stared at the mess. “What on Earth?” Walking deeper into the room, I headed for the closet. There was a floor safe hidden behind some long dresses. I wanted to check that it was still there.

I rounded the end of the bed.

For half a second, I wondered at what I was seeing. Then it registered.

A scream bubbled up my throat, but got stuck and came out as a strangled cry. I stumbled backward, tripping over my heels to land on my butt on the floor. Like a crab, I scrambled back, then pushed to my feet and stared at the space between the bed and the closet, horror making my stomach do somersaults.

There, on the floor crumpled into a heap, was Mrs. Hammond, one of the homeowners. Eyes open, sightless and slightly cloudy, her gaze fixed at a point under the bed, she lay in a pool of deep red blood.

Dead.

CHAPTER 3

Ozzie

Murder wasn’t the first case I expected to have once Chief Riggs let me off my chain and out into the world by myself. But here I was, pulling up to a fresh murder scene.

Blowing out a breath, I shut my cruiser off and got out, walking up to the first officer I saw.

“Garnett.”

The twenty-year veteran turned. When he saw me, one eyebrow rose. “Chief sent the newbie by himself?”

One side of my mouth slid up. “Yep. He cut the apron strings.” My expression sobered. “What do we have?”

“Nastiness. I don’t like this one.”

I studied the older man as I digested that. “Murder is never good. What makes this one worse?”

Sergeant Garnett tipped his head toward the house. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

Curious now, I followed him toward the front door. My gaze caught on the blonde woman sitting on the porch steps. “Who’s that?”

“Claire Holmes. She found the body—she and her colleague, there.” He nodded to the box truck in the driveway.

“They know to stay put until I talk to them, yes?”

Garnett’s head bobbed. “Yep. I posted Turner out here too. He’s directing traffic and keeping an eye on them. They can’t get out, anyway. He blocked their vehicles in.” His gaze flicked to the navy-blue Land Rover in the driveway.

My eyebrows winged upward. That was a nice car. Especially for this area. “What do we know about her?”

“She’s a real estate agent.”

“This house is for sale?” I didn’t notice a sign in the yard when I drove up.

“Not yet. But that’s why she and her colleague are here. The deceased is one of the homeowners.”

“Got it.”

We approached the porch. I expected Ms. Holmes to look up, but she kept staring out at the yard, her expression blank. Shock, it seemed, had set in.

Passing her, we went inside. After donning shoe covers, Garnett led me upstairs to the master bedroom, where the crime scene unit was busy processing the scene.

Grant Iverson glanced up from his position on the far side of the bed. “Hey.”

I gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Is it okay to come through?” I motioned to where he crouched.

“Yeah. Just watch your footing. There’s quite a bit of blood back here.”

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