Read Online Command Indecision (Lexi Graves Mysteries) by Camilla Chafer - Free Book Online
Authors: Camilla Chafer
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mechanism. He closed, then opened the door, twisting his body so he could run his fingers down the exterior doorjamb. "Mitch says the locks weren't changed, and I don't see any signs of it being picked. It's definitely not broken."
"How would you know if it had been picked?" I asked, moving over to him.
"Sometimes scratches around the keyhole. This type of lock can sometimes be flipped. See here," Solomon ran his thumb over the exterior jamb at lock height. "I didn't see a screwdriver mark on the frame. This type of lock fully and partially locks. If it's partial, you can stick in a screwdriver and flip it."
"So it was unlocked," I said decisively.
Solomon nodded in agreement. "Which means Jillian was expecting someone to come by or..."
"She was waiting for someone," I finished. "Tate?" Whether he was the murderer or not, the blood evidence on his clothes proved he was with her at least after her murder. It seemed awfully random that he should happen by after hours, unless he knew Jillian was there.
"Maybe. There's a record of a phone call from Jillian to Tate that afternoon. She could have asked him to stop by. If the MPs know that, and they probably do, that’s an extra mark against Tate. "
"We know he definitely saw her because of her blood on his clothes. Could he have come after she died?"
"Yeah. The crime scene photos indicated there was more spray than what I saw on the photos of his clothes. That kind of violence means a lot of blood. What was on his shirt wasn't the right pattern or volume ," said Solomon with the authority of someone who was trained in more than just CSI reruns. He got to his feet and closed the door. "She was hit from the front several times. There should have been blood all the way up his shirt and jacket; but instead, it was mostly on the cuffs."
I blanched at the thought of what Jillian went through and hoped Solomon , again, wasn't speaking from experience. He didn’t strike me as violent and I’d never once feared being in his company. Now I thought about it, he’d always behaved in a caring way towards me. When he wasn’t eyeing me like a steak anyway.
I moved into the main office to stand by the only clear desk, which I guessed was formerly Jillian's, and turned to face Solomon. "Stay there," I said, trying to picture the scene. "So, someone comes into the office. Jillian's working late. She gets up from her desk and walks over. She's not afraid."
“Walk out the scene.” Solomon watched me, his hands on his hips. "Why do you think she wasn't afraid?"
"Because she walked over." I crossed the floor, putting myself in Jillian's shoes, imagining her doing the same thing. "If I was afraid, I would have stayed this side of the counter and called for help. I have access to a phone right there, and another one there, or I could shut myself in one of the offices." Instead, I walked through the half-height swinging gate and shut it behind me, walking around to Solomon's side where Jillian was found. As I came to a stop, I realized something else. "Jillian knew the person. She came out from behind the counter to be, I dunno, less formal? Friendly?"
"If she didn't know the person, she would stay behind the counter, be more official," Solomon continued, following my thoughts as his eyes flitted around the small reception space.
"That's right." My shoulders slumped. It wasn't a good enough theory to throw doubt on the current suspect. "So far, that still says Tate," I said. So much for proving Tate's innocence. All my walk-through had suggested was Jillian probably heard someone enter the office. I imagined her looking up and seeing her sergeant friend, and smiling or waving and telling him she’d be right there. Maybe she powered down her computer, or put her paperwork away, and walked over, rounding the desk to give him a friendly hug. And minutes later, she was dead.
"So, she had the door unlocked and stayed behind because she called Tate and was waiting for him. That doesn't mean
"How would you know if it had been picked?" I asked, moving over to him.
"Sometimes scratches around the keyhole. This type of lock can sometimes be flipped. See here," Solomon ran his thumb over the exterior jamb at lock height. "I didn't see a screwdriver mark on the frame. This type of lock fully and partially locks. If it's partial, you can stick in a screwdriver and flip it."
"So it was unlocked," I said decisively.
Solomon nodded in agreement. "Which means Jillian was expecting someone to come by or..."
"She was waiting for someone," I finished. "Tate?" Whether he was the murderer or not, the blood evidence on his clothes proved he was with her at least after her murder. It seemed awfully random that he should happen by after hours, unless he knew Jillian was there.
"Maybe. There's a record of a phone call from Jillian to Tate that afternoon. She could have asked him to stop by. If the MPs know that, and they probably do, that’s an extra mark against Tate. "
"We know he definitely saw her because of her blood on his clothes. Could he have come after she died?"
"Yeah. The crime scene photos indicated there was more spray than what I saw on the photos of his clothes. That kind of violence means a lot of blood. What was on his shirt wasn't the right pattern or volume ," said Solomon with the authority of someone who was trained in more than just CSI reruns. He got to his feet and closed the door. "She was hit from the front several times. There should have been blood all the way up his shirt and jacket; but instead, it was mostly on the cuffs."
I blanched at the thought of what Jillian went through and hoped Solomon , again, wasn't speaking from experience. He didn’t strike me as violent and I’d never once feared being in his company. Now I thought about it, he’d always behaved in a caring way towards me. When he wasn’t eyeing me like a steak anyway.
I moved into the main office to stand by the only clear desk, which I guessed was formerly Jillian's, and turned to face Solomon. "Stay there," I said, trying to picture the scene. "So, someone comes into the office. Jillian's working late. She gets up from her desk and walks over. She's not afraid."
“Walk out the scene.” Solomon watched me, his hands on his hips. "Why do you think she wasn't afraid?"
"Because she walked over." I crossed the floor, putting myself in Jillian's shoes, imagining her doing the same thing. "If I was afraid, I would have stayed this side of the counter and called for help. I have access to a phone right there, and another one there, or I could shut myself in one of the offices." Instead, I walked through the half-height swinging gate and shut it behind me, walking around to Solomon's side where Jillian was found. As I came to a stop, I realized something else. "Jillian knew the person. She came out from behind the counter to be, I dunno, less formal? Friendly?"
"If she didn't know the person, she would stay behind the counter, be more official," Solomon continued, following my thoughts as his eyes flitted around the small reception space.
"That's right." My shoulders slumped. It wasn't a good enough theory to throw doubt on the current suspect. "So far, that still says Tate," I said. So much for proving Tate's innocence. All my walk-through had suggested was Jillian probably heard someone enter the office. I imagined her looking up and seeing her sergeant friend, and smiling or waving and telling him she’d be right there. Maybe she powered down her computer, or put her paperwork away, and walked over, rounding the desk to give him a friendly hug. And minutes later, she was dead.
"So, she had the door unlocked and stayed behind because she called Tate and was waiting for him. That doesn't mean
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