Taking in the man’s features, full head of tousled dark brown hair, dark-colored eyes, trimmed eyebrows, and more than a day’s worth of facial hair, Devlin shook his weathered hand. “Me too, Detective.” She motioned behind her. “This is my partner, Noah Randall.”
The men clasped hands and exchanged professional greetings.
Harker cocked his head at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were a deputy marshal the last time we met. Promotion?”
“Last week.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She pointed at the blotch. “I take it this is where...” her unspoken query faded.
Harker nodded. “Young man in his twenties. He was fit, too. So he must’ve been surprised by whoever killed him.”
“Or,” Randall ambled away from the door, his head pivoting, his eyes scanning the small living room, “there were multiple attackers.”
Harker rubbed his chin. “That’s also an angle we’re investigating.”
Devlin saw a small table nearby. On it, a picture lay face down as if it had been knocked over. She squinted at the layer of dust covering the table’s surface before eyeballing a short lamp beside the photo frame. The lamp’s circular base rested next to a half circle of dust-free real estate. “It looks like,” she pointed at the out-of-place items, “there was a struggle here.”
“That’s what we thought, too, but we found a woman’s shirt, pair of pants, and shoes,” he pointed at the floor to the left of the table, “there...right next to a man’s shirt. The victim wore only jeans. Boxer shorts and socks were found in the bedroom.” Harker hesitated before delivering his next words while looking away. “The lab techs also discovered semen stains on the bed sheets.”
Devlin raised her eyebrows. “Do you think she was,” she wavered, “raped?”
Hearing the hitch in his partner’s voice, Randall glanced over his shoulder and noticed her skin losing some color.
“It’s possible, but,” Harker scratched his cheek, “I don’t think so. Judging from the display of discarded clothing leading to the bedroom, I think the deceased and your sister were...romantically involved. Semen was also found on the dead man’s...” the detective rolled a finger at where the man’s body had lain, “you know.”
Peeking into the bathroom, Randall saw a disheveled towel and washcloth draped over the shower rod and a bunched bathmat on the floor. Crumpled black panties lay a foot away from the mat. He backed out and saw Devlin rubbing her forehead. “Jessica.”
She spied him.
“I don’t think she was raped.” He threw a thumb toward the bathroom. “Based on what I’m seeing in here, I’m almost positive the sex was consensual.”
Devlin’s shoulders dipped a bit while she let out a quick breath.
Walking away from her, Harker made a short arc with an arm. “Let me show you the bedroom.”
Passing by the bathroom and seeing what Randall had seen, Devlin nodded at the familiar array of articles. He’s probably right. She most likely had sex and then took a shower afterward.
“As you can see,” the police official stepped to the side after entering the last room in the mini flat, “this is where a struggle definitely took place.”
Staying outside, Devlin surveyed the mess, her eyes zeroing in on a few spots on the carpeting, “More blood,” before she scrutinized the rest of her sister’s belongings.
Harker folded arms and cupped his chin. “We’re testing that to see if we get a hit, see if it belongs to the assailants...or Detective Mahoney.”
Randall moved to the opposite side of the room and stood at the base of an overturned floor lamp. “Have pictures been taken...items dusted for prints?”
“Yes.”
Randall pointed at the lamp. “May I?”
Harker fished out a pair of rubber gloves and underhanded them across the space.
Randall caught the gloves, slipped them on, picked up the lamp, and squinted at the broken bulb. “There’s blood here, too.”
“We know. A sample was taken.”
Pursing his lips at the splintered bedroom door, Randall bent at the knees and held the lamp up like a hockey stick. He looked left and right before swinging the stick back and forth. This must be where she fought back.
Devlin faced Harker. “What about her cell phone?”
He motioned behind him. “It was in the back pocket of her pants. Investigators are combing through it for clues as we speak.”
Randall glimpsed the shards of broken bulb on the floor on his two o’clock. He swung the weapon in that direction, his mind showing him the bulb breaking as it struck someone. His attention darted to his left.
On his ten o’clock, drops of dried blood on the carpet made a line toward the dresser.
He lifted his gaze.
On the dresser, another line of blood led to a large circle.
He whipped the ‘sword’ back to his left, envisioning the sharp edge of the light bulb’s base slicing skin as a second attacker spun away while holding his face. “There were at least two of them.” He laid the lighting device in the same place he had found it.
Harker crossed his forearms over his chest. “How are you so sure?”
Randall opened a dresser drawer and spotted several bloodied t-shirts. He glanced right and saw remnants of the lamp’s globe on the dresser. “I’m assuming your sister’s a tough cookie, Jessica?”
Devlin nodded. “That she is.”
He went to the doorway. “This is how I see it. After locking herself in her room,” he made a swift motion, “Faith yanked the lamp from the wall outlet.”
Randall backed away from the door. “She then,” he made another motion, “broke the globe on the dresser as she,” he backpedaled, “retreated further into the room. Shortly thereafter, the assailants kicked in the door and rushed her.”
Knifing the air to his right with the lamp, he acted out his movements from earlier. “She swung the lamp at a man over here, shattering the light bulb, before swinging it back this way and
