Read Online At the Scene of the Crime by Dana Stabenow - Free Book Online

evidence that someone, probably Mrs. Hoff and a partner, had sex in this room.”
    “Her ex?”
    Raines considered that, then shook her head. “Doubtful. I used the electrostatic print lifter and got footprints off the wood floor. I think we have a third person present. Another man, this one wearing sneakers.”
    Hawkins told her his theory about the towels and the wet rug in the bathroom.
    “So,” she said, “there were three people here.”
    “I think Carl Hoff definitely interrupted something. Tell me about the shootings.”
    “Both were shot from a distance of about six feet. It looks like they were both shot with the same gun, about the same caliber anyway, judging from the entry wounds, and the shell casings have disappeared from Hoff ’s automatic.”
    “Anything else?”
    “The footprints indicate a struggle between the man wearing the tennis shoes and Hoff, who was trying to get away when the man shot him. The killer wiped the gun clean of fingerprints, then put it on the floor near Hoff.”

    “Which one of them shot Mrs. Hoff?” Hawkins asked.
    “Hoff tested positive for gunshot residue. It looks like he shot his wife, wrestled with her lover, lost the fight for the gun, then tried to get away but got shot in the head.”
    “What’s the first rule about witnesses?” Hawkins asked.
    Raines gave him a sharp look. “First on the scene, first suspect.”
    “Good. Now, who called in the crime?”
    “The neighbor, Roger Triplett.”
    “Right. What kind of shoes was he wearing?”
    “Tennis shoes.”
    “Did you notice the burn on his arm?”
    “Yeah. It wasn’t very big.”
    “About the size of an ejected shell casing?” Hawkins asked.
    “Oh hell.”
    “Go get Yackowski and Stark.”
    “Right away,” she said, and turned toward the door.
    “Krysti.”
    She stopped and looked back.
    “If Triplett’s still in the hall, don’t let him know you know. If we’re going to convict him, we’re going to want the towels and casings. He didn’t have time to leave the building, so they’ve got to be here somewhere. We can only hope he was dumb enough to hide them in his own apartment.”
    She gave him a quick nod and headed down the hall. Hawkins pulled out his cell phone and woke Judge Jonathon Maynard from a sound sleep. The judge was, naturally, livid, but once Hawkins explained the situation, Maynard agreed to sign a search warrant and fax it to the security office of Crossroads Towers.
    Hawkins went out to the primary crime scene where Raines and the two detectives waited for him.
    “You got something?” Yackowski asked.
    Hawkins had Raines explain their findings to the detectives.
    When she finished, Yackowski said, “I’m supposed to believe that shit?”

    “If Triplett got the gun,” Stark said, “why shoot Hoff?”
    Hawkins said, “For one thing, Hoff now had a witness to him killing his wife. Triplett would never be safe. At some point, Triplett’s going to claim self-defense.”
    Stark shrugged. “Could it have been?”
    “This is a far-fetched bunch of bullshit,” Yack said.
    “If it was self-defense,” Hawkins said, answering Stark and ignoring the older detective, “what exactly was Triplett protecting himself from? Hoff was disarmed and running away. Self-defense is not shooting a man in the back of the head from six feet away.”
    Raines asked, “And in the case of self-defense, why steal the evidence? What we have here is two separate homicides. Hoff shot his ex-wife, then Triplett shot Hoff. The crimes just happened to have been committed with the same weapon.”
    Starting to buy in, Yackowski said, “And you’re sure the lab will find what you say they’ll find?”
    “They’ll do all the tests,” Hawkins said, “but I’m betting we’ll get a DNA match to Triplett from the bed, match his shoes to the prints in the dining room, and we can probably get a positive GSR test with the warrant. If we find the towels and shell casings, we’ll have a slam