house to the back door. “There is definite evidence of a break-in here.” He pointed to the door frame.
Baby crouched to get a better look. “Not much finesse. A crowbar, you think?”
Gavin nodded. “Or something similar. Hell, a hammer could’ve done it. The door is as old as the house. Probably wouldn’t keep out a determined toddler.”
Baby stood back up.
“There’s all sorts of fingerprints inside the house. It’ll take a while for the system to work its way through them. This isn’t considered a priority case since no one was hurt and there are no time-sensitive issues.”
Baby grimaced but nodded.
“But this is what got the forensic team a little excited.” Gavin pointed down to the step near the edge of the tiny back porch.
There was a tiny drop of paint. Obviously new—dry, but pristine. Everything else around this house was old and in need of serious repair. “Is that the same black that was used on her walls?”
“Looks like it.” Gavin walked down a few steps away from the house. “Here’s another drop, and basically, another drop every few dozen feet which leads straight to Mr. Wallace’s trashcan.”
Baby sighed. “Given he’s like a hundred years old, I’m fairly certain Mr. Wallace wasn’t the one who broke into Quinn’s house.”
“No. But forensics found an empty spray can in his trash. I’m thinking the perpetrator—”
“Could be more than one,” Baby interrupted. If this was the work of kids, they tended to be more stupid in packs.
Gavin nodded. “True. Perpetrators didn’t expect we’d be checking Mr. Wallace’s trash. They did it in the dark and didn’t realize they were leaving a trail of paint. There were definitely fingerprints on the can.”
That was good news.
Baby and Gavin spent some time looking around the woods between Mr. Wallace’s house and Quinn’s. Looking for things the crime scene investigators wouldn’t have known to look for. Broken branches that might have shown which direction the perps had come from. If they were teenagers who had come out from town on foot, they’d probably leave some sort of trace.
Baby and Gavin weren’t nearly as good at tracking as Dorian, one of the Linear Tactical partners. Dorian had almost a sixth sense about the way people moved since he spent so much time out in the wilderness. But Baby and Gavin weren’t too shabby either.
But after an hour, they still didn’t have much to show for their efforts. A couple of shoe prints, but those could’ve very easily come from Mr. Wallace.
If it had been kids coming from town, they hadn’t used some of the normal paths. That didn’t prove anything one way or the other, though.
“Let’s go back and look at the house. There’s a couple of things I need to show you.” Gavin’s voice was grim.
“I saw the damage last night.”
Gavin nodded. “I know, but there’s a couple of things you might have missed. Things you should know and think about.”
When it came to Quinn’s safety, Baby wanted to know everything. “Show me.”
They walked back into the house. “It’s fine for Quinn to clean up whenever she wants to. I know you want to help. I can come help too, if needed. Hell, all the guys will come, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m more interested in making sure she’s safe than I am worried about getting this place straightened up. We’ll make that happen.”
Gavin looked around, walking over to where her pile of books had been thrown all over the floor. “Her safety. Right.”
Baby’s eyes narrowed. Gavin was acting weird.
“You got something to say, Redwood? Just say it. Do you think this wasn’t kids? Do you think she might be in more trouble than we figure?”
“Tell me why you think this is kids.”
Baby walked around. “Well, whoever was here was obviously out to cause trouble. Make a mess. There wasn’t anything of value to take. It’s not like thieves would target this house on its own. It’s too far back from the main section of town to catch anyone’s attention.”
“Those are all fair points.”
“The graffiti on the wall suggests kids...or someone not terribly smart. Graffiti in general is vindictive and juvenile.”
Gavin nodded.
Baby looked closely at the words written on the wall.
Your stupid.
Baby definitely wouldn’t have caught the lack of the apostrophe or the missing e, like Quinn had. “Your stupid. Not an overly mature or threatening phrase. And then, not spelled right? Points to teens for me.”
“There’s something you should know.” Gavin opened the folder he’d had in his hand the whole time. “There are a