Charlie said, "I found this over by the table." He held up another plastic bag that contained a brass key. "Yale lock, pretty standard. No usable fingerprints on it."
"Was it wiped down?"
"Just used a lot. There aren't any prints to lift."
"No keychain?"
Charlie shook his head. "If you had it in your pocket and you were wearing baggy pants, it could easily come out during a struggle."
Will looked at the key, thinking that if it had a number or address on it, his job would be so much easier. "Mind if I hold on to this?"
"I've already catalogued it. Just make sure it gets back to evidence."
"Will?" Amanda had been hovering behind him. "I talked to Campano."
He pocketed the key Charlie had found, trying to hide his sense of dread along with it. "And?"
"He wants you off the case," she said, but didn't seem to think that was worth discussing. "He says that they've had some problems with Emma lately. She was a good girl, the perfect child, then she got mixed up with this Kayla Alexander sometime last year and everything went to hell."
"In what way?"
"She started skipping school, her grades started to fall, she started listening to the wrong music and dressing the wrong way."
He told her about what he'd found in Emma's room. "I'm guessing they made her take down the posters."
"Typical teenager stuff," Amanda said. "I wouldn't trust the father so much on where the blame lies. I have yet to meet a parent who admits that his own child is the bad apple." She tapped her watch, her signal that they were wasting time. "Tell me what progress we've made."
Will told her, "The deceased male is Adam Humphrey. He's got an Oregon driver's license."
"He's a student?"
"Detective Mitchell is calling local colleges to see if he's registered. We're still trying to track down Alexander's parents."
"You know the key to breaking this is going to be finding a second person who knows at least one of our victims."
"Yes, ma'am. We're running dumps on all the telephones. We just need a lead to follow."
"GHP is pulling a negative," she said, meaning the Georgia Highway Patrol. "White is a popular color for the Prius, but there aren't that many on the road. Unfortunately, we're heading into rush hour, so it's not going to get easier."
"I've got uniforms pulling video from every ATM and store-front on Peachtree as well as anything in the Ansley Mall area. If the Prius left either way, we might get an image we can work with."
"Let me know if you need more feet on the ground." She rolled her hand, meaning for him to continue.
"The knife doesn't match anything in the kitchen or the carriage house, which points to the killer bringing it with him. It's pretty cheap-wooden handle, fake gold grommets-but it's obviously sharp enough to do some damage. The brand is for commercial use only. It's the kind of thing you'd find at Waffle House or Morrisons. The local supplier says he sells millions of them a year just in the metro area."
Amanda always thought in terms of how she could frame a case for the prosecutor. "Bringing the knife to the crime scene shows intent. Go on."
"There's dried blood on the glass outside the front door. Whoever broke it already had blood on his or her hand-it's on the outside of the pane. I'd guess it would take someone with an arm that was around three feet long to reach in through that window and unlock the front door."
"So, no forced entry-the girls let their attacker into the house. Whoever busted the glass obviously wanted to make it look as if he broke in." Amanda mumbled, "I suppose we have CSI to thank for his stupidity."
"Or someone smart enough to make it look stupid."
She raised an eyebrow. "Possibly. Do you think we should be looking at the father more closely?"
"He sells cars and he's a jerk. I'm sure there's a long list of enemies, but this feels deeply personal. Look at Kayla Alexander. Whoever killed her was furious. If you're a hired gun, you go in, take out the target and leave. You don't spend time beating her and you don't use a knife."
"What was your conversation like with Paul Campano?"
"He doesn't seem to know a lot about her life," Will said. Thinking back on the interview, he realized that this fact seemed to be the genesis of Paul's anger. It was as if he had never met his own daughter. "The mother had to be sedated. I'll go back at her first thing tomorrow."
"Do we know if Alexander was raped?"
"Pete isn't sure yet. Bruising would indicate yes, and there's sperm in her vagina, but it's also on the crotch of her panties."
"So, she stood up and put on her underwear at some point after intercourse. Let's see if the sperm comes back to our other victim, if that's what we're calling corpse number two for the moment." Amanda pressed her finger to her lip as she thought this through. "What about the mother? Hysterics, sedation. Pretty dramatic stuff and it conveniently takes her out of the spotlight."
"I think she's genuinely horrified about what's happened and she's scared she's going to be arrested for killing someone in cold blood."
Amanda looked at the dark, congealed pool where the body had lain. "Good defense if you ask me. Let's go back to the father. Maybe he was molesting the daughter."
Will felt his body break out in a sudden cold sweat. "He wouldn't do that."
Amanda studied him. "Do you have a previous relationship with this person that I should know about?"
"What did he say?"
She gave him a sharp smile. "You don't have the luxury of not answering my question."
Will felt his jaw working and made himself stop. "It was a long time ago."
Amanda seemed to realize Charlie was at her feet, picking through carpet fibers with a pair of tweezers. She murmured to Will, "A discussion for another time."
"Yes, ma'am."
Amanda's tone went back to normal. "Charlie, can you walk me through this?"
Charlie finished what he was doing and stood up with a groan, rubbing one of his knees as if he needed to work some life back into it. He pulled down his mask again. "We lucked out with the blood. The female decedent is B-negative, the male decedent is O-negative. The carpet here"-he indicated the shoe prints-"shows almost exclusively B, indicating the female decedent."
"Charlie." Amanda stopped him. "Just paint me a story. Adam and Kayla. Go."
He allowed a smile at the situation. "This is all supposition, of course, but we might assume Kayla was chased down this hallway, toward the back staircase. The killer caught up with her about here." He indicated a distance of about three feet behind them. "We found a significant patch of hair, part of the scalp still attached, here." He pointed to another spot on the carpet. "From this we might conclude that she was jerked back by her hair and fell onto the floor. Possibly, this is the point at which she was raped-or not. The probability that she died here is very high."
Amanda looked at her watch again. Like Will, she hated the fact that forensics worked in the couched language of "possibly" and "most likely" instead of dead certainty. She asked, "Is this the part where we get past assumptions and down to hard science?"
"Yes, ma'am," Charlie answered. "As I said before, the blood types make it easier. Kayla was beaten and stabbed here. You can see the cast-off pattern on the wall." He indicated slashes of dark blood. "The killer was in a frenzy, probably furious from chasing her or maybe from seeing her with another man-Adam, you could suppose."
Will asked, "How long would the attack have taken?"
Charlie looked at the walls, the stained floor. "Forty to fifty seconds. Maybe a full minute or two if rape occurred."
"Does anything in the pattern suggest that someone tried to stop him?"
Charlie put his hand to his chin, studying the blood. "No, actually. These arcs are fairly perfect. If he'd been interrupted or someone tried to stop his arm from swinging, we would see more variation. This is extremely uniform, almost like a machine going up and down."