As we prepared to head out to the crime scene, Rodriguez approached me with a sheepish expression on his face. "Jones, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to come with you guys today," he said, his voice apologetic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room.
I raised an eyebrow, curious about his reason. "What's going on, Rodriguez?" I asked, my eyes locked on his. I leaned against the counter, my arms crossed over my chest.
Rodriguez smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "My daughter's got a concert tonight, and I wouldn't want to miss it. She's in 12th grade, and it's a big deal for her." He paused, his expression turning serious. "I know it's last-minute, but I promise I'll catch up on the case as soon as I can." He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with the effort.
I nodded understandingly, remembering the countless times I had to balance work and family responsibilities. "Don't worry about it, Rodriguez. Family comes first. Go attend your daughter's concert, and we'll take care of the crime scene." I patted him on the back, reassuring him. "We'll keep you posted on any developments."
Rodriguez smiled, relief written all over his face. "Thanks, Jones. I owe you one." He turned to leave, but not before adding, "Keep me posted on any developments, okay?" He nodded at Peter, Paul, and Mike, who were all watching the exchange with interest.
I nodded, watching him go. "Will do, Rodriguez. Good luck to your daughter!" I called out after him, as he disappeared out the door.
With Rodriguez excused, I turned to Peter, Paul, and Mike. "Alright, guys, let's get moving. We've got a crime scene to check out." I led them out of the station, into the bright sunlight. The sun was high overhead, casting a warm glow over the city.
As we arrived at the crime scene, I could feel the tension in the air. The house where Emma, the housemaid, was hanged to death, loomed before us, its windows like empty eyes staring back. The police tape was still up, and the forensic markers were still in place.
Peter, Paul, and Mike all nodded, their faces set with determination. "Let's get to work," Peter said, his voice firm. He adjusted his gun holster, his eyes scanning the area.
We began to survey the area, taking in every detail. The grass was slightly trampled, and there were faint scuff marks on the sidewalk. I could see the faint outline of a footprint on the ground, partially obscured by the grass.
Mike knelt down, examining the footprint. "Looks like our killer might have been in a hurry," he said, his eyes scanning the ground. He took out his notebook and began to sketch the footprint.
Paul nodded, his eyes locked on the house. "Or they might have been trying to leave a trail." He turned to me, his expression thoughtful. "What do you think, Jones?"
I shook my head, my mind racing with possibilities. "I don't know, Paul. But I think we need to take a closer look at the house." I led them towards the entrance, my eyes scanning the doorframe. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the faint outline of a struggle on the floor.
As we stepped inside, I could feel the eerie silence of the house. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and I could see the faint outline of a struggle on the floor. The furniture was slightly disarranged, and there were faint scuff marks on the walls.
Peter whistled softly, his eyes wide with surprise. "Looks like our killer put up quite a fight." He knelt down, examining the marks on the floor. "This looks like a real struggle."
Paul nodded, his eyes locked on the staircase. "Let's check upstairs. See if we can find any signs of forced entry or exit." He led the way, his gun drawn.
I followed close behind, my eyes scanning the staircase. The stairs creaked beneath our feet, and I could feel the tension building.
As we reached the top floor, I could see the door to Emma's room was slightly ajar. I pushed it open, my eyes scanning the room. The bed was unmade, and the closet was open, with clothes scattered all over the floor.
Mike whistled softly, his eyes locked on the closet. "Looks like our killer was in a hurry to get out of here." He knelt down, examining the clothes. "This looks like a real mess."
Paul nodded, his eyes locked on the bed. "Or they might have been looking for something." He turned to me, his expression thoughtful. "What do you think Jones?"
Before I could speak my mind, Peter spoke from behind me, his voice filled with urgency. "You've got to see this, Jones." He handed me his phone, his eyes locked on mine. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted the concern etched on his face.
I took the phone, my heart racing with anticipation. As I looked at the screen, I was taken aback by the sight. The news from the Internet flashed before my eyes, and I felt like I had been punched in the gut. The headline read, "Max Thompson shot to death." I scrolled down, my eyes scanning the article.
"Max Thompson, brother of Gabriel Thompson, was found shot to death in his car. The incident occurred just hours after Thompson was questioned by police in connection with his brother's murder." I felt a chill run down my spine as I read the words.
I looked up at Peter, my eyes wide with shock. "What...what does this mean?" I stuttered, my mind reeling with possibilities. The room seemed to spin around me as I tried to process the information.
Peter shook his head, his eyes wide with shock. "I don't know, Jones. But this changes everything." His voice was laced with concern, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was - our case just got a whole lot more complicated.
Paul and Mike gathered around us, their faces filled with concern. "What's going on?" Paul asked, his voice low and serious. He looked at Peter, then at me, his eyes scanning our faces for answers.
I handed him the phone, my eyes locked on his. "Max Thompson's been shot to death." My voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo through the room.
Mike's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my god. This is getting out of hand." He took a step back, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for answers.
I nodded, my mind racing with thoughts. "We need to get to the scene, now." I turned to Peter. "Call dispatch, get them to send a team to the scene. We need to process this ASAP." My voice was firm, but my mind was racing with questions. Who could have done this? And why?
Peter nodded, his fingers flying across the screen of his phone. "Already on it, Jones." He spoke into the phone, his voice calm and professional.
As we waited for dispatch to respond, I couldn't help but think about the implications of Max's death. This was no longer just a murder investigation - it was a complex web of events that seemed to be spiraling out of control.
"Jones, we've got a problem," Paul said, his voice low and serious. He looked at me, his eyes locked on mine.
I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. "What is it?"
"We've got a witness who claims to have seen someone lurking around Max's car just before the shooting," Paul said, his eyes scanning the area. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with the effort.
I felt a surge of adrenaline. "Get the witness in for questioning, now. We need to know what they saw." My voice was firm, and I could tell Paul was thinking the same thing I was - this witness might be our only lead.
Paul nodded, his face set with determination. "Already on it, Jones." He turned to Mike. "Get the witness's statement, and let's get them in here ASAP."
Mike nodded, his eyes locked on Paul's. "Got it."
As we waited for the witness to arrive, I couldn't help but think about the case. We had just gotten a major break, and now it seemed like it was all being taken away from us. But I knew we had to keep pushing forward, no matter what.
"Jones, we've got the witness," Peter said, his voice firm. He led the witness into the interrogation room, a small, unassuming woman with a nervous expression.
I stood up, my eyes locked on hers. "Thank you for coming forward. We appreciate your bravery." I smiled, trying to put her at ease.
The witness nodded, her eyes wide with fear. "I just want to help. I saw something, and I knew it was wrong."
I nodded, my eyes locked on hers. "Can you tell us what you saw?"
The witness took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room. "I saw someone lurking around Max's car. They were acting suspiciously, so I kept an eye on them." Her voice was shaking, but she seemed determined to tell her story.
I leaned forward, my eyes locked on hers. "Can you describe the person?"
The witness thought for a moment, then nodded. "They were tall, with a lean build. They had a scarf covering their face, so I couldn't see their features." She hesitated, her eyes scanning the room.
I nodded, my mind racing with possibilities....
"I'll get back to you ma'am, I still have some urgent stuff to bring in for the meantime, but until then, I'll keep in touch." I informed her, leaving the interrogation room and heading back to Emma's resident with my coworkers.