Free Exposed by Laura Griffin Page B

ago and paid a year’s worth of rent in cash—”
    “Cash?”
    “Yep. And he was back the first week of January to pay this year’s.”
    “You ask to see the lease application?”
    “He thumbed through the files, says he must have ‘misplaced’ it. My guess is he pocketed some money not to get one in the first place.”
    “Don’t nobody know nothin’ about nothin’,” Sam said.
    “And he was jumpy as hell, which tells me he at least has some idea his tenant’s got something going on here.”
    Brian glanced around, more carefully this time. The only furniture in the apartment consisted of a sofa, a plastic patio chair, and a big-screen TV in the corner of the living area. The bedroom didn’t have a bed, and the fridge was completely empty. Brian had checked.
    “You get a look at what this guy bought at the gas station earlier?” Sam asked him.
    “A six-pack of beer. Why?”
    “Anything else?”
    “Probably cigarettes. He lit up as soon as he exited the store.”
    “We need the brand.” Sam nodded at the small patio on the other side of the door. “There are some butts out there, all Marlboro Reds. We need to find out if they belong to Vlad or one of his buddies. Maybe we’ll even get lucky and find one that belongs to Mladovic.”
    Highly doubtful, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Brian pulled out his phone and scrolled through three separate messages he’d just received from Maddie, all with photographs attached.
    “Maddie got a picture of the SUV’s interior,” Brian said. “Looks like a six-pack of Bud on the seat, but I don’t see a carton of smokes. Maybe he only bought a pack.”
    “Brian? Sam? You guys need to look at this.”
    He turned to see Elizabeth LeBlanc standing in the foyer. The agent was even newer to the job than Brian, but they’d brought her along in the unlikely event that they found Jolene Murphy alive.
    Brian braced himself as he followed her down the short hallway leading to the bathroom. It smelled like a litter box. A crime-scene tech was crouched beside the bathtub.
    “Check out these marks,” Elizabeth said.
    Brian studied the side of the tub. “What’s that from, a hammer?”
    “Probably a hammer, maybe a mallet,” the CSI said. She turned and pointed to the drainpipe under the sink. “We’ve also got some scratches here on the pipe. I can’t say for sure, but they could be from handcuffs.”
    “Any idea how old those bloodstains are?” Sam asked.
    “Could be days, maybe even weeks. It’s hard to pin down.”
    Brian exchanged looks with Sam. They’d already guessed that Jolene had been held captive here. The question was when. A fast-food receipt they’d recovered from a trash bin was dated two days ago. Brian glanced around.
    “What are those marks on the wall?” He tugged Elizabeth aside and crouched down. “See there?”
    “Probably from her feet,” Elizabeth said. “Looks to me like she was on the floor here, kicking the wall.”
    “And no one heard anything,” Sam said disgustedly.
    “Neighboring unit’s unoccupied,” Brian told him. “Maybe a coincidence, maybe not.”
    Sam checked a message on his phone and muttered a curse.
    “What is it?”
    “Jolene’s father wants an update.”
    The family had been hounding them around the clock, and Brian didn’t blame them. But Jolene’s dad had bought a police scanner and was listening intently to any and all activity that might have something to do with his daughter’s disappearance. His frequent phone calls were a distraction.
    “I told him I’d stop by tonight.” Sam checked his watch. “Now I’m wishing I hadn’t.”
    “Hey, you guys mind taking it into the hall?” The CSI looked annoyed. “I need to finish in here.”
    “I’m happy to stick around if you need to go,” Elizabeth said as they migrated into the living room.
    “That’d be good.”
    “Want me to come?” Brian asked, even though he dreaded the idea. He’d spent half an hour yesterday with Jolene’s