Chapter 4

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MADISON SPOKE TO TERRY WITH her attention on the photo in which both the vic and a man were smiling. The reflection in their eyes indicated a history. "Are there any other pictures of him around the house?"

"Not that I've seen."

"They look like a happy couple. Maybe next of kin will know who he is. From there, we'll ask neighbors and people where she worked. See if anyone can help us find out more about her social life."

"Detective Knight." A young CSI stood in the doorway. "I noticed the body's been removed. Can I come in? Examine more?"

"Just give us a few more minutes."

He nodded and left the room.

She continued. "Maybe there was no forcible entry because the killer lived here."

"Nothing to indicate a guy was living here or even staying here. There are no male clothes or touches." Terry slipped on a pair of gloves and opened the bi-fold closet doors. Only women's clothing hung on the bar. High heeled shoes were organized on racking sorted according to color.

"Male touches?"

"What?"

"You talk strangely sometimes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." She smiled while facing the interior of the closet. "Laura was an organized woman, liked order. I mean, look at her shoes." Madison waved her hand over the expanse of the collection.

She put on a pair of gloves and opened the top drawer of a dresser that was beside the closet. At quick assessment, there appeared to be a hundred matchbooks, all embossed with the name Weathered Rose. "Look at these." She scooped a handful and let them filter through her fingers back into the drawer. "There's no phone number or address on them."

Digging through the matchbooks, she found a pair of metal cuffs. She looped a finger in them, dangled them in front of Terry. "Look what I found. Maybe we'll get lucky."

She looked back at the headboard. "I'm going to guess this wasn't her first time bound up either. The paint's worn off from more than two bars. She obviously wasn't a traditional girl." She considered the metal cuffs.

"They're not even cozy cuffs."

"Cozy cuffs?"

"Yeah, they're covered with fur. Popular in black and pink." Terry scrunched up his face to indicate a distaste for the latter color.

That was more insight than she needed into his sex life. "Maybe the killer suggested bondage and erotic asphyxiation, and she was into it. She could have tried it before."

"Possible."

She worked through the drawer with one hand while the other held the cuffs. What was with the matchbooks? "Could you get that kid back in here?"

Terry leaned over the doorsill, tapped on the frame, and yelled out for him. Back to Madison: "His name is Mark Andrews. He's worked cases with you before."

"Yeah, I know." She knew his name, but he struck her more as an Eddy.

"Maddy, you'd think since he loves you, you could at least—"

Madison cut him off with a wave of her hand. Mark stood in the doorway. She pointed to the framed photograph. "Please log that into evidence."

"Sure." He took a picture of it, bagged and tagged it, then scribbled in the evidence log.

"Thank you, Mark." She deliberately said his name in an effort to aggravate Terry, but his attention was back on the contents of the closet.

Mark said, "Do you want me to bag the cuffs?"

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