Cass was frantic. “I’m coming Sam, I’m coming,” she said resolutely as she pulled into Sam’s driveway for the second time this morning. Sam’s car was still in the driveway, right where it had been earlier. Cass did a fast check of the yard to make sure Sam wasn’t down somewhere outside. She put on latex gloves and crime scene booties over her shoes then opened the front door, trying to avoid smudging any latent prints. This time her look through the house was more deliberate, much more thorough.
She started upstairs in the master bath. Nothing seemed amiss. The towels were still slightly damp. She checked the soap dish in the shower. The underside of the soap bar was slightly moist and gooey. Sam had taken a shower this morning. That was good. It meant she hadn’t been missing for all that long.
As Cass came back downstairs, her eyes misted over. This wasn’t just another investigation. It was Sam, the closest thing she had to a sister. She began to question whether she could be objective enough to keep her emotions from getting in the way.
She shook off the doubt, telling herself that she was a professional and that no one in the world had more reason to see that everything was done right. She’d find time for crying later. Right now there was only Sam and the job of finding her before that monster could kill her best friend.
Downstairs looked the same as earlier—nothing broken or out of place—no struggle. In the sink was an unwashed cereal bowl, a plate, two glasses, a juice glass, a spoon and a fork and a coffee cup. The milk residue and a couple of corn flakes that remained in the bottom of the bowl hadn’t dried out. Sam had eaten breakfast.
The plate had what looked like cake crumbs and dried traces of frosting on it. The two glasses appeared to have contained milk. One of them had what looked to Cass like chocolate cake crumbs remaining in it. The residue in the glasses was completely dried. Last night, she thought.
Although Dr. Barlow occupied most of her mind, she also thought of Ricky—tall, ruggedly handsome Ricky who could charm the fuzz off a peach. Oh Sam, you didn’t let him in, did you? The more she thought about it, the more that seemed possible. Good old tenderhearted Sam. She always was a sucker for a sob story.
Barlow? Ricky? Barlow? Ricky? She weighed both possibilities then made up her mind. Barlow was the proven killer.
“What’s up Sheriff?” Deputy Zeeman asked as he walked through the door.
“I’m pretty sure Barlow has Sam.”
“Are you kidding? Think he’s ballsy enough to do that?”
“It’s not a question of balls; it’s a question of crazy.” She told him about the portrait. “I’m not kidding, when I walked into that living room, I thought it was Sam staring down from the wall. The ribbon around the neck of the woman in the portrait clinched it. Barlow’s our evening gown murderer. The really creepy part is that on the night of the Ladies Auxiliary Ball, Sam was dressed in a gown nearly identical to the one in the portrait. She and I both wore the ribbons found on the victims that night specifically to see if we could provoke a reaction from anyone. Barlow didn’t give us a clue. He even danced with Sam knowing she was practically a clone of the woman in the portrait. Want to know if he’s ballsy enough? I think that’s your answer. What’d you find in his office?”
“They’re dusting and processing the place now. You know the writing on that back of that invoice?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the way he writes everything. All his patient records are in that same weird shorthand. We figure how to read that, and we’ll know a lot more than we know now.”
Eric had to see the other side of the coin. “We have another possible perp,” she said. “Last night, Sam thought she saw her ex at the Quik-go. I talked to the clerk and confirmed that a guy matching his description was there. We tried to spot him in town but couldn’t. I dropped Sam off here just before ten. I think some of the dishes in the sink were from last night—two glasses and a plate. “Sam doesn’t normally eat late at night. The ex could have shown up and talked her into letting him in. I want those dishes swabbed for DNA and dusted for prints.
“I’m pretty sure Sam was here this morning. The towels in her bathroom are still damp, and the soap’s gooey. She probably got up early to come in just like she said she would.” Cass pointed at the dishes in the sink. “She ate breakfast. Her cereal bowl has fresh residue. Those dishes may be our only physical evidence so be careful processing them.
“I’ve got to get to the courthouse for the arrest-warrant hearing. You stay here and set this place up as a crime scene. Nobody in or out except the investigating officers. I’ll have Mary send help. Sorry to abandon you, Eric. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”