“I don’t think so. But I may have missed it because the trash cans are in the garage and the garage is always locked anyway.”
“You mean closed? Or closed and locked?”
“Well, closed and locked. From the outside you can’t open it without the remote.”
“Is there also an outside door into the garage? Besides the overhead door?”
“No. Just the overhead.”
Ballard decided not to open the door to the garage, even with gloves on, until Forensics checked it. It could have been the means of entry. She also had to consider that either McGee or Black had opened the door while checking the house during the initial callout. She could ask them but she knew that neither would admit to such a gaffe. She would only know for sure whether they had opened the door if one of them had left fingerprints on the knob.
Ballard decided she would view the garage last, coming in from the outside. She moved into a hallway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. She checked the bathroom first and saw no evidence of intrusion through the small window over the bathtub.
She moved into the master bedroom, where the assault had occurred. There she found a window that had been sealed shut by several coats of paint applied over many years. She looked at the bed. Carpenter had said she had not known of the intrusion until she woke up with one of the men on top of her and putting tape over her eyes and mouth. He then tied her hands to a railing of the bed’s brass headboard. He told her not to move or make a sound and then she heard him leave the room and open the front door for his partner.
Ballard got down on her knees and looked under the bed. It was clear except for a few books. She slid them out and saw that they were all written by female authors: Alafair Burke, Steph Cha, Ivy Pochoda. She slid them back under and got up. She swept her eyes across the room again but nothing stood out to her. She stepped back into the hallway and checked the second bedroom. This was neat and spare, obviously a guest room. The closet door was four inches ajar.
Ballard opened the closet all the way without touching the knob. Half the space was crowded with stacked cardboard boxes marked as Native Bean supplies. The other half was empty, apparently for the use of guests. She got down on her knees again to study the carpeted floor. She saw nothing on the carpet but there was a distinct pattern in the weave that was indicative of recent vacuuming. Still on her knees, she leaned back on her heels and called for Cindy to come to the room.
She came right away.
“What is it?”
“You said you have no Dustbuster, no vacuum at all, right?”
“No, why?”
“This closet was vacuumed. I think this is where he hid.”
Cindy stared down at the carefully manicured carpet.
“We put that in because the previous owner had stored paint cans there and some had spilled on the floor. It looks awful underneath.”
“ ‘We’？”
“My husband and I. We bought the place and then after the divorce, I kept it.”
“The door — do you leave it open? Like, to keep air circulating in there or something?”
“No, I keep it closed.”
“You’re sure you closed it after the last time you got stuff out for the coffee shop?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Listen, I’m sorry, I know you probably just want to be left alone but I want Forensics to come here and process the closet and maybe the rest of the house.”
Carpenter was crestfallen.
“When?” she asked.
“I’ll call them right now,” Ballard said. “I’ll get it done as fast as possible. I know it’s an intrusion but we want to get these guys and I don’t want to leave any stone unturned. I don’t think you do either.”
“Okay, I guess. Will you be here?”
“If they can come now, I’ll stay. But in a few hours I start another shift. I’ll have to go check in at the station.”
“Try to get them to come now, please.”
“I will. Uh, you mentioned your husband. Is he still in L.A.? What is your relationship with him?”
“He’s here and we’re fine because we don’t see each other. He lives in Venice.”
But there was a clear tension underlying the way she said it.
“What’s he do?” Ballard asked.
“He’s in the tech industry,” Carpenter said. “Works for start-ups and stuff. He finds investors.”
Ballard stood up. She had to take a step to hold her balance. She realized that sleep deprivation was manifesting.