Katie turned onto Spruce Street and slowed her speed, looking for 172.
McGaven studied the area. “There are a lot of blind spots.”
Katie knew what he meant. It was an older area where vintage houses had been turned into apartments. The trees were large and many stood like umbrellas over the sidewalk and parking areas. Native ivy and flowering plants weren’t in bloom at the moment, but they would have made it difficult to see who was around if someone had been stalking Theresa in previous weeks.
Katie pulled up to the curb in between the addresses 172 and 174, which were remodeled one-story houses.
“I feel like I stepped back in time,” McGaven said.
“I agree.” Katie looked around at both sides of the street.
“It looks like there are four apartments: 111, 112, 113, and 114. And Theresa’s looks to be around back.”
“Let’s go,” she said and opened the door. There were a couple of whines, but then Cisco retreated and lay down in the back seat. Katie paused as she stood on the sidewalk facing the apartments. This was typical of her as they investigated, whether it was a home or a workplace. She used all her senses, focusing on the immediate task at hand. It helped to stop her from assuming anything and to check her instincts were in tune.
McGaven waited patiently at the gate. Neither detective spoke. When Katie walked to the gate, McGaven followed her through.
The fine gravel path crunched beneath their feet as they made their way to a patio that wrapped around the building. There, several pots, now empty, decorated the side in bright blues and greens. The first door said it was 111, so Katie followed the path to the right. There was a slight smell of fresh paint and the window trim and doors were glossy. That gave Katie pause.
“Looks like there have been workers here recently. Painters? Contractors? Landscapers? Maybe try to dig up who was here?” she said.
McGaven nodded.
Around the back of the building, the detectives noticed there was a slight ravine with even more trees scattered about. It would be an area where someone could get onto the property without being noticed.
“Here it is,” said McGaven.
They stood in front of 112. The door had been recently painted and the apartment number had been replaced with bright gold digits. A welcome mat, a pot, and a silly gnome decorated the entrance.
Katie studied the door. “Wait.”
“What?”
“Look at the doorframe.”
There was a dark smudge across the frame and the siding near the lock. It was obvious someone had pried at it recently.
“That looks recent.Reallyrecent,” she said.
McGaven looked at it closer and frowned.
“I think we need forensics,” she said.
“Call Jack?”
“This is where things get tricky.” Katie looked around and then her eyes settled on the gnome. She moved it and underneath there was a single house key. “I wish people wouldn’t do this.” She snatched up the key.
McGaven dug out gloves from his pocket. “Call Jack. And we will be extra careful entering the apartment, making notes for any evidence that needs to be documented.”
Katie immediately dialed the vet and was surprised he answered on the second ring.
“Dr. Thomas.”
“It’s Katie.”
“Good morning. What can I do for you?”
Katie thought that he sounded exceptionally chipper today. “We’re at Theresa’s apartment and it looks like someone recently tried to pry the door open.”