Snow dusted the shoulders of her jacket. A canopy had been erected over the body to protect it from the precipitation. The medical examiner had not yet arrived, so the body remained in situ. Deputies and forensics techs moved around the sprawled victim, photographing and sketching the scene, setting up evidence markers. It felt clinical, almost obscene, to work around the corpse as if it weren’t there.
“Any sign of forced entry?” Matt asked.
“No.” She straightened and clicked off the light. “And the other doors and windows are secure. Spencer didn’t have a security system. He didn’t even have a doorbell camera.”
“Spencer is dressed for a run. Maybe he left the back door unlocked.” Matt knew plenty of people who lived out in the country didn’t bother locking their doors, particularly in the daytime. He told her about the footprint. “There’s no tread to cast.”
“Damn.” Bree shook her head. “Ready to take the search inside?”
“Let’s do it.”
They donned shoe covers and gloves before they went inside. The kitchen was sleek and modern. The adjoining living room took clutter-free to new heights. A leather couch faced a fireplace with a TV mounted above it. Every surface shone.
“No photos. No knickknacks. No fingerprints or smudges.” Matt’s gaze swept the bare space. “Except for the dinner prep, it doesn’t look like anyone lives here.”
“When I lived in my apartment in Philly, I hardly ever made a mess that needed to be cleaned up. I ate over the sink.”
“That’s sad.” Matt had watched her change since she’d moved to Grey’s Hollow. The Bree of the past had been alone, even in a roomful of people. But to help the kids process their mother’s death, Bree had been forced to give up her aloof loner ways. Matt was profoundly grateful.
She lifted a shoulder. “It didn’t seem so at the time, but now that I’m used to general chaos, I think a little mess is homey.”
“I’m a bachelor too, but my house looks lived in.”
“You have a big dog.”
Surveying the operating-room sterility of Spencer LaForge’s house, Matt was grateful for the clumps of dog fur and drool trails on his own tile.
Bree took a photo of a steak marinating in a dish on the counter. “Avery said Spencer had planned to grill steaks for them for dinner.”
A laptop sat on the kitchen island. Matt lifted the lid with one gloved finger and touched the space bar. The computer woke. The screen brightened to show a dating site called Cool Beans. The tagline at the top of the screen described it as a low-key app for no-pressure dating.
Bree peered over his shoulder. “Avery said she met him through a different site.”
“Plenty of online daters use multiple apps.”
Bree frowned. “Avery thought he might be The One for her. If Spencer was actively seeking more dates, maybe he didn’t share that sentiment.”
“The app logged him out, so I can’t see his account.” Matt closed the laptop, then scanned the delicate wineglasses and general tidiness of the space. “No sign of a struggle in here.”
“And we’d know if anything was out of place. This guy was particular about his space.” Bree pointed to a drawer she’d just opened.
Acrylic organizers separated pencils from pens from paper clips. Writing implements all pointed in the same direction. She moved to another drawer. “That’s weird. This one is empty.”
Matt opened cabinets. “Half his cabinets are empty too. He has the basics, but not the amount of equipment I would expect with this fancy kitchen setup.”
“Maybe the renovation is recent.”
“Or he ran out of money.”
Bree opened the fridge. “His condiments are lined up by bottle height with all the labels facing the same direction.”
“That’s beyond neat.”
“After living on a farm with two kids, a big dog, and a cat, I find this level of organization disturbing.”
They walked through the rest of the first floor, finding nothing that looked out of place.
“Let’s try the upstairs.” Bree led the way to the second floor.
The first bedroom was a home office. Matt checked the desk drawers. “Not much in here. Plans for his kitchen renovation, receipts. A few bills. Aha. Here’s a collection notice.” He riffled through a neat stack of papers in a drawer. “And another one.”
Bree opened the closet. “There’s a fire safe in here. He might keep his important records in that. We’ll have to get someone to open it.”
Matt ducked into the next room. “This is strange.” Glass tanks in varying sizes lined shelves. The tanks were outfitted like mini habitats with branches, water bowls, and heat lamps for the reptiles that occupied them.
Bree followed him in. “Turtles, lizards . . . what is that?” She pointed to a tank on the end.
“A snake.”
Bree sighed and shot him a Really? look. “What kind? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He leaned in to get a better view. About three or so feet long and slender, the snake was mostly white with scattered red scales. He pulled out his phone. “Google says it’s a Palmetto corn snake. It seems corn snakes are friendly, easy to care for, and popular as pets. This one is rare because of its color.”
Bree’s face did not approve.
“It’s harmless and kind of cute,” Matt said.
Bree scanned the tanks below it. “There are five of them.”
“This could be a hobby or a side business,” Matt suggested.
She stopped in front of an empty space on the middle shelf. “What do you think of these empty spaces? Looks like three tanks were removed.”
“He could have sold some animals.” Matt leaned closer. “But the surface is very dusty, and the rest of the house is spotless. Feels like he would have dusted the shelf if he had the time.”
“Maybe he’s been busy with work.” Bree opened the closet. “Gross.”
“What?” Matt walked to her and peered over her shoulder. The closet was fitted with industrial shelves lined with containers of turtle pellets, live crickets, and mealworms.
A small chest freezer squatted on the other side of the closet. “Not sure I want to open this.” She lifted the lid, then quickly let it drop. “Ugh.”
“What?”
She raised the lid again and turned her head to read a label. “Pinkies.” She grimaced. “Baby mice.” Her gaze shifted. “There are larger mice and rats too.”
“Snake food.”
“Yeah.” Bree shivered. “Not a fan.”
Matt shrugged. “Personally, I prefer furry animals, but lots of people keep snakes as pets. Most of them are completely harmless, even beneficial.”
Bree waved a hand. “I know they keep the rodent population in check. I wouldn’t want to hurt one. But I also don’t want to hug one.”
Matt surveyed the space. “Since it appears three habitats are missing, the most likely conclusion is that the animals were either stolen, sold, or died. But we should keep an eye out, just in case.”
Bree stopped cold. Searching the floor, she made a noise he couldn’t quite identify, but she didn’t sound happy. They stepped into the primary bedroom.