“I think this happened in the last few minutes,” he said, looking over at Jessie. “I’m going to follow the prints. Will you call it in and secure the house?”
Jessie nodded and he took off, running down the hallway where the blood trail went. It led through the kitchen to a door that opened onto the alley. He unholstered his weapon and carefully peeked outside. The prints, now fading, headed to the right and he moved in that direction.
After about twenty yards the bloodstains disappeared completely and he was left guessing which direction to go. The guy could have hidden in any of these places, especially since so many were currently unoccupied. He looked around for any clue that might help.
Ryan was in an alley that divided the homes directly on the Strand from those one block east. They were equally impressive, in some case more so. The owners seemed to compensate for being a block away from the beach by being even more ostentatious in house size. Unlike the Strand homes, which had little yard space, the ones he was looking at now had large green spaces.
In fact, just up the way, he saw that one home with a yard had a small cabana. He squinted to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It looked like the cabana door was slightly ajar. He moved in that direction and scaled the wooden fence without any trouble. As he approached the cabana, he considered calling Jessie but didn’t want to make any noise that might tip the attacker off.
When he got to the door, he saw that it was dark inside. The windows were curtained and there were no lights on. He took off his sports jacket and tossed it on the ground. For what he was planning, he’d need as much deftness as possible and wearing the jacket would interfere with that.
Without pausing to think about it too long, Ryan got a running start and dove into the room, rolling into an elegant somersault and popping upright. He spun around, training his gun on the interior of the cabana.
It was sparsely decorated with nowhere to hide. Despite the dimness, it quickly became clear there was no one in the room. Then he saw the other door. He gathered it led to either a bathroom or closet. Either way it was closed.
He shuffled to the right and approached the door from the side, briefly debating whether to try to access the room with stealth or force. But it didn’t take long to decide. If someone was behind that door, they surely heard him enter the cabana.
He also doubted, though he couldn’t be sure, that the killer was armed with a gun. In his experience, if someone was a stabber, they carried only a knife. If they were a strangler, they usually only had a cord, or in this case, a stocking. Most killers were quite loyal to their weapon of choice.
Still, he decided kicking in the door was wiser than trying to open it quietly, especially if it was locked. So he reared back and slammed the base of his shoe into the handle, which snapped off as the door flew open. Ryan leapt in, his eyes darting everywhere.
It was indeed a bathroom. But other than a toilet, a small, glassed-in shower and a sink, it was empty. He was about to leave when he sensed it more than heard it—the presence of another person in the cabana. He was just swiveling around when he heard the heavy breathing of someone very close by. Before he could fully spin back to the door, a body slammed into him.
As he felt the breath violently escape his chest, he flew backwards and his body smashed into the glass pane of the shower stall.
*
The first floor of the house was clear.
Just to be safe, Jessie had cuffed Carl Landingham to the banister in the foyer as she searched the massive mansion. Assuming he hadn’t killed the girl, she felt bad about leaving him there, trapped with the dead body of his alleged mistress. But she didn’t have much choice.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw the snapped-off heel of one of the victim’s stilettos. Leaving it where it lay, she continued down the hall, checking each room. Most looked undisturbed. On the bed in one guest room, she found a small backpack. Spread out next to it on the bed were clothes that she assumed belonged to