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Authors: Sherri Hayes
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Let me . . . let me go get him.”
Without another word, she scurried out of sight. Paul gave a questioning look to his partner, and she shrugged, letting him know that she didn’t know who the woman was either.
While they waited, Paul looked around. The house was simple, but nice. In fact, what stood out to him the most was the lack of clutter or anything else that made the house looked lived in. Granted the McMurphys didn’t have any children, but there should still be evidence of the two people living there. If there was, he couldn’t see it from where he stood.
Evan McMurphy walked into the room looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles beneath them. “Detectives?”
Janey took the lead. “We’re sorry to bother you again so soon, Mr. McMurphy, but I wanted to introduce you to my partner, Detective Daniels. He was out of town this weekend, but he and I will be handling your wife’s case.”
Paul extended his hand. “Hello, Mr. McMurphy.”
Evan McMurphy shook Paul’s hand and nodded.
“Detective Daniels wanted to get a look at the crime scene for himself. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”
“Sure. Of course.”
Janey led Paul down a long hallway to the back of the house. The sunroom remained blocked with crime scene tape. Although the forensic unit had already been through the room from top to bottom, it hadn’t been cleaned yet.
As he walked around the room, Paul noted the small similarities between this murder and the others. Opening up the file, he compared the position of the victim’s body with the others. The killer not only positioned each of the bodies in a similar way, but where the women were placed in the room was the same. It was almost as if the killer had used a tape measure to find the exact center, and place the body in that spot. “Whoever this person is, they are big on details.”
His partner nodded. “I agree. It does look like this one may have struggled a bit more than the others, though.” She pointed to a vase lying on the floor—its contents spilled out on the beige carpet. With the other two victims, nothing had been out of place. There had been no sign of a struggle at all. It was as if whoever it was walked in, did their business, and left.
Paul worked his way over to the large French doors along the back wall. There was no sign of forced entry. He opened the door, checking for any evidence that the lock had been picked. There were some scratches, but they could have come from general wear.
He shut the door, and found Janey looking over the contents on the desk. “Hopefully she fought her attacker enough for us to get some DNA.”
After speaking to Mr. McMurphy again, he officially introduced them to his friend, Sarah Cartwright, although Paul got the impression there might be more there than just friendship. At least, on her part. Then again, he might be seeing things that weren’t really there. The whole thing with Megan was throwing him off, and he didn’t like it.
He and Janey canvassed the neighborhood, talking to anyone who was home, hoping someone had seen a stranger lurking or a car hanging around prior to the murder. As with the others, no one appeared to have seen or heard anything unusual that night or anytime leading up to it.
Returning to the car, Paul pulled out of the drive and turned toward the station. “What do we know about Mr. McMurphy?”
Janey shrugged. “Early thirties. Works as a CPA downtown, and at a local community college teaching accounting two nights a week. I didn’t get any bad vibes when I spoke to him the first time. Or this time, for that matter.”
Paul nodded. “What about the woman?”
She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrow. “My first impression?”
“Of course.”
“I think she has a crush.”
“So you don’t think there’s anything going on there?”
Instead of answering him, she countered with her own
Without another word, she scurried out of sight. Paul gave a questioning look to his partner, and she shrugged, letting him know that she didn’t know who the woman was either.
While they waited, Paul looked around. The house was simple, but nice. In fact, what stood out to him the most was the lack of clutter or anything else that made the house looked lived in. Granted the McMurphys didn’t have any children, but there should still be evidence of the two people living there. If there was, he couldn’t see it from where he stood.
Evan McMurphy walked into the room looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles beneath them. “Detectives?”
Janey took the lead. “We’re sorry to bother you again so soon, Mr. McMurphy, but I wanted to introduce you to my partner, Detective Daniels. He was out of town this weekend, but he and I will be handling your wife’s case.”
Paul extended his hand. “Hello, Mr. McMurphy.”
Evan McMurphy shook Paul’s hand and nodded.
“Detective Daniels wanted to get a look at the crime scene for himself. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”
“Sure. Of course.”
Janey led Paul down a long hallway to the back of the house. The sunroom remained blocked with crime scene tape. Although the forensic unit had already been through the room from top to bottom, it hadn’t been cleaned yet.
As he walked around the room, Paul noted the small similarities between this murder and the others. Opening up the file, he compared the position of the victim’s body with the others. The killer not only positioned each of the bodies in a similar way, but where the women were placed in the room was the same. It was almost as if the killer had used a tape measure to find the exact center, and place the body in that spot. “Whoever this person is, they are big on details.”
His partner nodded. “I agree. It does look like this one may have struggled a bit more than the others, though.” She pointed to a vase lying on the floor—its contents spilled out on the beige carpet. With the other two victims, nothing had been out of place. There had been no sign of a struggle at all. It was as if whoever it was walked in, did their business, and left.
Paul worked his way over to the large French doors along the back wall. There was no sign of forced entry. He opened the door, checking for any evidence that the lock had been picked. There were some scratches, but they could have come from general wear.
He shut the door, and found Janey looking over the contents on the desk. “Hopefully she fought her attacker enough for us to get some DNA.”
After speaking to Mr. McMurphy again, he officially introduced them to his friend, Sarah Cartwright, although Paul got the impression there might be more there than just friendship. At least, on her part. Then again, he might be seeing things that weren’t really there. The whole thing with Megan was throwing him off, and he didn’t like it.
He and Janey canvassed the neighborhood, talking to anyone who was home, hoping someone had seen a stranger lurking or a car hanging around prior to the murder. As with the others, no one appeared to have seen or heard anything unusual that night or anytime leading up to it.
Returning to the car, Paul pulled out of the drive and turned toward the station. “What do we know about Mr. McMurphy?”
Janey shrugged. “Early thirties. Works as a CPA downtown, and at a local community college teaching accounting two nights a week. I didn’t get any bad vibes when I spoke to him the first time. Or this time, for that matter.”
Paul nodded. “What about the woman?”
She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrow. “My first impression?”
“Of course.”
“I think she has a crush.”
“So you don’t think there’s anything going on there?”
Instead of answering him, she countered with her own
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