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“Some people are free spirits like that.” Nico sensed a mixture of curiosity and confusion coming off West, so he added, “I didn’t say I was.”
West rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “If I was the killer, I would have kept her here in the bedroom. It’s further away from the neighbors. Less windows. Doesn’t make much sense to move her to the kitchen.”
“Crime of passion, maybe? Not everyone knows they’re gonna kill someone until they do.”
West looked doubtful. “Taping someone to a chair doesn’t strike me as overly passionate or spontaneous.”
“You’re right about that,” Nico said, lips pursing as he considered. Then it hit him. “There’s no chair or bed frame in here, just the upholstered headboard. Nothing to tie her to.”
“So probably not a crime of passion,” West said as Frank strode into the room.
“What’d the ME say?” Nico asked.
“Woman has more holes in her than a cheese grater,” he answered. He looked grim. It was appropriate, but it didn’t suit him. “She bled out in minutes. Looks like she received a good knock to the back of the head too. We won’t know more until after the autopsy.”
Nico sighed. “Okay. Keep looking around. We need a lead.”
“I think I’ve found one.”
All eyes turned to Zoe who had come up behind them, one gloved hand holding a sealed evidence bag.
“Is that a condom?” Frank asked, eyeing the small latex bundle inside.
Zoe nodded. “Used.”
“Well,” West said. “I’m not naïve enough to hope it belongs to the killer, but it does give us something to work with. Whoever the man is, he might be the last person who saw her alive.”
“Zoe, get the CSI team to run a sample through CODIS right away,” Nico ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s hope Romeo has a criminal history,” he said to no one in particular. If he didn’t, and they couldn’t find a match, all the DNA in the world wouldn’t help them track him down.
“It’ll be hard to sift him out through all the tourists crawling around this time of year,” Frank added. “Smart timing on his part.”
Nico didn’t like that. Nor did he like how his mind reflexively flew to Lexie. This was her home, and the odd stab of protectiveness he felt toward her in light of the current threat made him shift uncomfortably.
Frank dug a notepad out of his back pocket. “Alright, I’ll start interviews, see what shakes loose.”
“Right behind you.” Nico moved toward the door, but West stopped him with a light tap on the arm.
“Hold on. Frank, give us a sec, would you?”
“Sure thing.”
West waited until Frank was no longer in earshot before turning to face Nico. “What’s going on with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I saw the way you looked at her,” he said, referring to the dead body in the next room. “The sweat that’s been beading your brow since you walked in here.”
Nico narrowed his eyes, impressed, if not a little affronted. “You’re more observant than I realized, Chief.”
The man’s brown eyes filled with something reminiscent of guilt as he glanced away. “I made a call to your old precinct,” he said. “Spoke to the sergeant. He told me what happened to you.”
Leaving affronted in the rearview mirror—and making a mental note to kick Sergeant Hellman’s ass for violating his privacy without warning for a second time—Nico seethed, “You what?”
“Calm down,” West ordered. “He didn’t give me details, just said that you had a case go bad a while back, which is why you requested a transfer somewhere quiet.”
