I dropped off Bandit at home, took a shower, and grabbed my gear. Making a quick stop at my neighbor Dean’s house, I let him know I’d be gone for the afternoon. I asked if he’d feed my pup later and let him out for a bathroom break around seven, then Bandit should be set for the night. I told Dean I’d keep him updated.
After heading out, I dialed Frank’s number on my way to the location. “Hey, did Lutz call you?” I asked as soon as he answered.
“Yep, I’m on my way to the crime scene now. So much for a leisurely Sunday. I guess Patrol is on-site, and Forensics and Don are on their way.”
“Okay, I should be rolling up in five.”
I clicked off the call and let my navigation lead me in. Arriving on the scene, I saw three patrol cars parked along the curb. Two children and an officer sat in the first car.
“Jesus Christ, there are kids present.” I parked, stepped out of my Camaro, and waved to get the officer’s attention. He came over and stood at my side.
“Detective McCord.”
“Bentley. How about a quick rundown of what took place here?”
“Sure thing.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “The kids found their mom dead on the kitchen floor less than a half hour ago. It’s pretty bad, sir. They had just been dropped off after a birthday and bowling party at Pins, went inside, and found a bloodbath and the house destroyed. The eldest son, Devon, called 911, and then they ran next door.”
“And that’s all they know?”
“Sounds that way.”
“Where’s the father?”
“On a business trip in New York, according to the twelve-year-old. He said the dad left yesterday, but he doesn’t know where he’s staying.”
“We’ll get his number off Mrs. Morton’s cell phone.” The typical scenario was beginning to take shape. Wife murdered while the husband was conveniently out of town and the kids were gone for hours. “Somebody coming for the kids?”
“Their aunt, the dad’s sister, lives the closest. She’s on her way.”
“Good. Just don’t let them leave until I have a word with them. Mills should be here any second. I want you and the others to cordon off the street. You’ll start canvassing the neighborhood as soon as the aunt leaves with the children.”
Mills parked and crossed the street. I nodded at Bentley. “Go ahead and sit with the kids but come and get me when the aunt arrives.”
Frank joined me on the sidewalk seconds later. “Been inside yet?”
“Nope, I was waiting for you. I’ve heard it isn’t pretty, though, and it was the kids that found her.”
“Damn.”
Mills and I entered a house that could rival that of any horror film. Blood evidence that went from room to room told the story of a woman who’d fought for her life. Furniture was toppled over, walls were streaked with bloody handprints, and on the kitchen floor, Mrs. Morton had finally lost the battle against her assailant.
“Holy shit.” Frank raked his fingers through his buzz-cut blond hair.
We stared down at a woman who was saturated from head to toe in her own blood. I knelt next to her and looked at her wounds. “Stabbed to death.”
“Overkill if you ask me, and that doesn’t fit with a typical robbery. The perp would put her down, grab whatever he could of value, and get the hell out. Somebody took their time with her. Looks like a rage killing.”
“You’re right, but the husband is out of town.”
Frank shook his head. “That’s convenient.”
We turned to the voice of our coroner, Don Lawry, as he entered the kitchen. “Sorry, guys, but you’ll have to step out. Danny and Mike are right behind me.”
With a grimace, I stood, then Frank and I went to the living room and began going through the scene, slowly that time. I scanned each window. None were broken, and the front door wasn’t jimmied.
“No forced entry. When someone knocked on a typical Sunday, she answered the door. The assailant caught her by surprise, forced his way in, and put the attack into motion.”
“Or she knew him,” Frank said.
I scratched my chin. “Yeah, or that.”
We stepped outside and walked the perimeter of the house. The overhead garage door was closed, the side door into the garage was locked, and the back door—a slider—was locked from the inside. No windows at the back of the house had been broken either.
When Bentley called out to me from the gate, I turned. “Detective McCord, the aunt just arrived.”
Frank frowned. “The aunt?”
“Closest relative until the dad gets back, and it’s his sister.”
Frank headed to the front yard. “Let’s hear what she has to say.”
The distraught aunt, already embracing her two nephews, wiped her tears and tried to compose herself long enough to have a word with us. “Kids, I have to talk to these detectives for a minute. Why don’t you wait in the car?”
I watched as the twelve- and ten-year-old boys walked away. I began once they were out of earshot. “Ma’am, may we have your name, please?”
“Carla, Carla Reed. Hal is my brother, and Tina is, or was, my sister-in-law.” She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “What happened, exactly?”
“Tina is deceased, ma’am.”
“That much I was told.”
“Although we’ve just arrived on the scene ourselves, it looks like a pretty brutal attack. How was Tina and Hal’s relationship?”
“Strained, and Tina just recently filed for divorce, but Hal is out of town. There’s no way—”
“That he’s responsible?”
She nodded.
“Was there physical abuse in the family?” Frank asked.
She looked startled. “How would I know that?”
“It’s a standard question, ma’am, and oftentimes the victim confides in others.”
“I doubt if Tina would confide in me. I’m Hal’s sister, not hers. Maybe you should ask her family those questions.”
Frank raised a brow. “So you weren’t close?”
“Tina was a difficult woman to please, Hal said. Honestly, that’s all I know.”
I pulled out my notepad and handed it to her. “We’ll need your full name, address, and phone number. As soon as Mr. Morton arrives back in Chicago, we’ll have to detain him for questioning. Are you able to take care of the kids for a few days? If not, they’ll have to be placed temporarily in foster care.”
“Of course I’ll watch them. I’ll take vacation time until this situation is ironed out.”
I slipped my notepad into my inner pocket then handed my card to her. “Here’s my contact information. Please call if anything else comes to mind. We’ll be in touch, and we’ll contact Mr. Morton.”
“I have his number right on my phone.”
“Thanks, that helps.” I copied the number to my phone and waved Bentley over. “You have statements from both boys?”
“I do, sir.”
“Okay, go ahead and walk Mrs. Reed to her car and then email those statements to me. Find Mrs. Morton’s cell phone, have Forensics bag it, then drop it off on my desk when you get back to the station. I’m sure there will be numbers on there we can use.”
Frank and I returned to the house and stood at the entrance to the kitchen. “What’s your best guess, Don?”
The coroner looked over his shoulder at us. “TOD was likely a couple of hours ago. Core temperature is ninety-four degrees. This poor woman has at least twenty stab wounds that are visible, but I’ll have a firm count after she’s cleaned up.”
I turned to Mike Nordgren, our lead forensic tech. “Go through each room thoroughly. With the amount of damage to Mrs. Morton and the house, the perp had to have left DNA, blood, or possibly a shred of fabric somewhere.”
“Sure thing, Jesse, and we’ll probably be here all day.”
I patted Mike’s shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. Keep us posted.”
Frank and I headed to our Second District station. Lutz said he would be there for a few hours and wanted us to check in with an update before going home. I’d notify the husband and record his comments about the murder once we were seated in Lutz’s office.
It was pushing four o’clock by the time I’d parked and crossed the lot to the front entrance of our building. Frank beat me there by a few minutes, took the last drag off his cigarette, and squashed it under his foot.
“You’re just going to leave that butt there?” I stared at it smoldering on our sidewalk.
“Jeez, you the cigarette police or something?” He picked up the butt and pocketed it.
We entered the building and turned left after checking through our security gate. Lutz’s office was only a few doors down. Frank and I poked our heads through the half-opened door.
“We’re here, Boss,” Frank said.
Bob leaned back in his chair and stretched, then waved us in. “Have a seat, guys, and tell me about the scene at the Morton house.”
I began with a groan. “Mrs. Morton was brutally murdered, and the house shows that she fought for her life. Don saw at least twenty knife wounds on her body.”
“Damn. I heard the kids found her?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Frank said. “The old man is out of town, and the kids were at a birthday party at the bowling alley. They found her dead when they got home.”
Lutz rapped his knuckles against the desk. “Husband been notified yet?”
“I thought it best to do it here so we can record his reaction.”
“Good idea, Jesse. Okay, give me the number.” Lutz set the adapter on the desk phone to record, then he dialed Hal Morton’s cell phone. With his hand over the receiver, Lutz mentioned that he hoped Hal answered restricted calls.
“Hello?” Hal’s voice sounded more irritated than curious.
“Mr. Hal Morton?”
“Yeah, I’m busy, so what are you pitching?”
“This is Commander Bob Lutz with the Second District Police Station in Chicago. There’s been an incident.”
“What the hell does that mean? Are my kids okay?”
We frowned. He hadn’t asked about his wife.
“Your kids are fine, sir, but your wife isn’t. She was attacked during a home invasion.”
“Is she all right?”
“No, she isn’t, Mr. Morton. I’m sorry to tell you that your wife is deceased.”
Silence filled the phone line. Either Hal was processing the shocking news or trying to pull a concerned reaction out of his hat.
“Mr. Morton?”
“Yes, I’m, um—Jesus Christ!”
“Sir, we’re going to need you back in Chicago as soon as possible, but the New York PD wants to have a word with you first. You can expect detectives at your hotel room within the hour, so we need to know where you’re staying.”
“At the Omni Manhattan.”
I wrote that down, and Lutz continued. “I’d suggest booking a flight home soon. Your sons need you.”
“Yes, of course. Where are they?”
“With your sister, Carla. The house is being processed, and you can’t enter it without an officer escorting you. We’ll release it back to you as soon as possible.”
“Okay. Am I supposed to sit here and wait?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I’m contacting the New York PD as soon as we hang up.”
Lutz gave Hal Morton his contact information and told him we’d need to know what flight he was coming back on. Two officers would be waiting for him at the airport. Bob ended the call and looked at Frank and me. “He’s involved.”
I nodded. “You think?”
Lutz waved us off. “I have to call the Manhattan Police Department now, so go home, both of you, and spend what little Sunday you have left doing what you want. The shit storm will be in full swing come tomorrow.”