Rue and I rushed out of the building toward the cruiser we had used earlier. I leapt in behind the wheel and told Rue to watch for an incoming text from Royce on both phones.
The address came in seconds later.
Rue called out the street name. “It’s on West Thirty-Fifth Street and Burroughs.”
“Got it.”
Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at a home that had definitely seen better days. Police were already stationed there. The neighborhood was rough, and I wondered if a burglary had taken place or possibly a heated argument over drugs. We gloved up as we walked in. The discovery was so new that the first responding officers and Rue and I were the only ones there.
“What have we got, Petrie?” I asked as we crossed the threshold into the living room. The house was so small he didn’t have to respond. I wrinkled my nose at the stench, but I doubted that the odor came from the body—it was too soon for him to begin decaying. I looked around, and trash was everywhere. Lying alongside the coffee table was Brandon—or what remained of him. “Holy shit. Somebody did a number on that guy. Any signs of a burglary?”
“Nope, but on second thought, who would know? This place is a pigsty.”
Rue nodded. “Good point. Didn’t see signs of the ram hitting the door.”
“Didn’t have to use it. The door was unlocked.”
“That’s odd.” I rubbed my chin as I knelt by the body and pointed at Brandon’s face. “It almost looks like his face was kicked in, but I don’t see bloody footprints anywhere.”
“Or a weapon lying around that could have done the damage,” Rue said.
Petrie spoke up. “The perp may have taken it with him.”
I pushed off my knee and stood. “Maybe. Is Tapper on his way?”
“Yes, sir. He should be here any minute. Forensics too.”
I stepped outside with Rue and gave the neighborhood a long, hard look. Anything could have happened, and it was unlikely that the few occupied houses had cameras. I doubted that most of the activities in that neighborhood were legal, and the residents probably didn’t want to show up on camera anyway.
Minutes later, the coroner’s van rolled up to the curb. Tapper and Terry Freeman, his assistant, climbed out and approached us.
Tapper shook his head. “When it rains, it pours.”
I huffed. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that saying today. Anyway, the living room is cluttered and small. We’ll wait out here for Forensics to arrive.”
“Okay.”
We watched as Tapper and Terry walked inside. Meanwhile, two officers stretched yellow police tape around trees and every other object that could keep the bystanders at a distance from the home. Looky-loos were exiting houses that I was sure were abandoned or should have been. Most of the people appeared to be in as bad shape as the dwellings they squatted in.
“Pretty depressed neighborhood, eh?” Rue asked.
“Yep, and I doubt if anyone saw anything, but if they did, their accounts may be flawed by drugs, alcohol, or lack of sleep.” I jerked my head at the van turning the corner. “Looks like Forensics is here. We need an estimated TOD from Tapper as soon as Billy and Martin are done photographing the body.”
Rue shook his head as he stared at the ground. I could tell his wheels were turning.
“Spill. What are you thinking?”
“As pissed off as Brandon was about the car accident and the bind it put him in, do you think he got into it with a drugged-up squatter?”
“That druggie would have to be inside his house, and what would he be doing there anyway? It isn’t like Brandon is scrawny.”
“True, but whoever killed him must have been tougher and bigger than Brandon.”
“Or jacked up on something.” I tipped my head toward our forensic guys as they carried their supplies up the sidewalk. “It isn’t pretty,” I told them when they reached us.
“When is any homicide pretty?” Martin asked.
I nodded. “Guess you have a point. Not much room in there. We’ll wait out here until you’ve photographed the body. After that, we’ll need a full forensic search of the house. Prints, evidence, blood, and so on.”
“You got it,” Billy said.
I took that time to call Royce. “Hey, Boss, the scene at Brandon’s house is pretty bad. His head and face have been beaten beyond recognition.”
Royce grunted. “Sounds like what happened to John Keller.”
“I thought the same thing.”
“Okay, find out if they knew each other or had acquaintances in common. Compare phone contacts.”
“Will do. Do you want us to get the initial TOD from Tapper first?”
“Yeah, get what you can. I’ll send out a few officers to conduct the knock and talks. We need to know if anyone saw anything.”
“Doubt it. This neighborhood is in bad shape. Nearly every other house is abandoned or a crash pad. Needles lying along the curbs, that sort of thing.”
“That’s just great. Well, give them a heads-up when they get there.”
“Roger that.” I hung up and relayed the message to Rue. “Royce is sending out a handful of officers to canvass the neighborhood.”
Devon raised his brows. “That should be interesting.”
“We’ll see.”
It didn’t take long before two squad cars turned the corner and parked. I passed on what we had seen of the neighborhood and told the officers to knock on every door on both sides of the block even if the residence looked abandoned. “There could be squatters inside who may have seen something. Talk to everyone who’s willing to talk to you. There may not be many, but give it your best shot.”
“Roger that, Detective Cannon,” Petrie said.
I pointed at the house. “C’mon. Let’s find out if Tapper has an estimated TOD to give us.”
We walked inside and stayed along the wall. There wasn’t much room considering there were four more people in the house than there had been forty minutes earlier. I nodded toward the kitchen and followed Rue. There, we could see what Tapper was doing yet remain out of the way.
“Got an estimated time of death, Tapper?” I asked.
“Yeah, twelve to twenty hours ago, give or take.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I’ll narrow it down for you once I get him on the table and take a body temp.”
“Okay, thanks.” I tipped my head at Rue, and we stepped out to the concrete slab beyond the patio door to have a private conversation. “That wasn’t too long after we left the accident scene. Brandon was still on site waiting for the tow truck to take his car away.”
“Right. Do we know what tow company he called?”
“Nope, but the officers who were still at the scene may have noticed. I’ll call Patrol and get the number for Reed. I know for sure we spoke to him.”
I made the call, got a handful of names and numbers, and began by calling Reed. I had to know where Brandon went after his car was towed away.
I began the questions after he picked up.
“Reed, it’s Detective Cannon.”
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“Wondering if you stuck around at yesterday’s accident scene until Brandon Ellis’s car was towed away.”
“Sorry, but no. I was called away on a different traffic accident.”
“Right. Did you notice who was still on scene when you left?”
“Um, shit, let me think. Yeah, I believe Rush and Conrad were both there. They stuck around to make sure all the debris was cleaned up and to remove the traffic cones.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll give them a call.” I hit End Call and tapped in Conrad’s number. He answered right away.
“Officer Conrad.”
“Conrad, it’s Detective Cannon. I’m wondering if you remember seeing the tow company’s name on the truck that hauled away Brandon Ellis’s car yesterday.”
“Actually, I do. It was Bee’s Towing. Their trucks have the yellow and black stripes on them.”
“Got it. Thanks, buddy.” I had Rue pull up the number on his phone, then I made the call. I explained who I was and said I needed to know the name of the tow truck driver who’d picked up Brandon Ellis’s car. I was put on hold while the dispatch person looked it up.
“That was Pat Harrison.”
“Great. Can you get him on the line?”
“One moment, please.”
I waited less than a minute before a husky-voiced man spoke up.
“This is Pat.”
“Pat, this is Detective Cannon calling. I understand you picked up Brandon Ellis’s damaged car yesterday and took it to your lot.”
“That’s right, but I took him home first. Felt sorry for the guy.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to know. Thanks.” I hung up and looked at Rue. “So, Brandon was taken home and had no wheels to leave again and, according to him, no money to go anywhere anyway.”
“Sounds like he was stuck there. The question is, who stopped by, and why did it end in Brandon losing his life?”