primary motivators for murder are money, sex, and revenge.”
“Detective Hughes is already getting warrants for the Fosters’ financials.”
“Does the wife or daughter have a boyfriend?”
“Again, to be determined.”
She peered out the front door for a security camera and pointed to a single-lens camera aimed at the front door. “That might tell us who paid them a call. It sends the recording to a computer or phone.”
“Let’s hope.”
Zoe paused to study a painting of Hadley and Skylar when she was a toddler. She followed the blood trail up the carpeted stairs to the second floor landing. The blood led down the central hallway toward the end and what was presumably the master suite.
Lights from a camera flashed from the last room, and they moved down the hallway, pausing at the first door. The room appeared to be a man’s study. The soft grays and whites gave way to browns, leathers, and heavy drapes. On the wall behind a heavy mahogany desk was a tall set of shelves that exhibited a series of professional awards as well as snapshots featuring Mark Foster displaying either a hunting or fishing conquest. There were papers assembled into piles around his desk.
“The man cave,” Zoe said. “Lets the wife decorate the house, but this room is his. He knew those piles must drive her crazy.”
“I grew up with three younger sisters,” Vaughan said. “When you’re the only guy in a house, it’s nice to have your space.”
“I don’t see a computer.” She crossed to the desk and discovered the computer cord still plugged in the wall. “I wonder if he backed it up somewhere?”
“I’ll have Hughes look into it.” He sent the detective a text.
She studied the pictures on Mark Foster’s credenza more closely. “Judging by the scenery, Foster traveled out west to what looks like the Sierra Nevada Mountains, maybe Montana, or possibly Idaho. Just about froze my ass off the winter I was stationed in Butte.”
“How long have you been with the bureau?”
“Six years in the bureau and two years on the criminal profiler squad.” She shifted her gaze to another picture. “Mark Foster likes documenting his big game kills.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s our guy.”
“Didn’t say he was. Just making an observation about the photos and the missing laptop, which might have footage of the intruder on it.”
“Mark Foster knew Marsha Prince, and he was on my list of people to interview once I had my bearings on the case.”
Zoe moved slowly and methodically when she collected homicide evidence. This was not a homicide yet, and she hoped it stayed that way. “Has an Amber Alert been issued for the girl?”
“Yes.”
The first few hours a child or young adult went missing were golden. The circle of evidence was tight and the evidence fresh. The more time that elapsed, the larger that circle became and the more tainted the evidence.
An open datebook revealed several appointments with clients as well as a golf pro and a travel agent. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The two made their way to the next room. This room was decorated in soft purples and grays. The bed was covered in a paisley comforter and unmade. The large pillows were rumpled, and a nearly full cup of coffee sat on the nightstand. Jewelry was scattered over the dresser top, but the surface underneath was polished. In the bathroom, nail polishes were lined up in a neat row along the counter, and the rich supply of makeup was organized in clear containers. A hand towel was neatly folded on the rack.
“Skylar slept in her bed last night,” Zoe said. “She was awake long enough to get a cup of coffee, bring it to her room, and take a couple of sips.”
“And then all hell broke loose.”
She walked around the room, searching for anything that was out of place. She had worked a missing persons case in Nevada, and the key to finding the fourteen-year-old girl had been a collection of coffee shop receipts that had led to the store clerk, who had become obsessed with her. The smallest detail could be the important piece.
“Do you see her cell phone?” Zoe asked.
“No.”
“That’s going to be critical.”
“I hear ya. Kids all have social media pages, and most share far more than they should.”
She fished out her phone and searched a couple of social media apps.
“How many apps do you have?” he asked.
“All of them. I routinely search people I’m investigating. I often learn more about a person from their online profiles than interviewing them or