“There’s every possibility.” Kane’s face carried a grim expression. “It’s a bit hard to tell right now, seeing that someone took the Ka-Bar to her face.” He narrowed his gaze on him. “The knife we found next to your right hand. Your blood-soaked right hand.”
The sound of a vehicle came from outside, and the slamming of doors. The next moment, Shane Wolfe stuck his head inside the door, followed by Emily and his assistant and badge carrying deputy, Colt Webber.
“Morning.” Jenna lifted her chin. “It’s a bloodbath. Kane cleared the area. There’s no sign of forced entry. The scene is concentrated to this area. We haven’t been near the victim. It’s obvious she’s deceased. I didn’t want to leave Rio and go get our forensics kit, but I’ve bagged the knife and recorded the scene.” She cleared her throat. “The knife was located beside Rio’s right hand. He was unconscious on our arrival. When Maggie arrived at the office there was another message on the door. It said, ‘Zac Rio is a killer.’ She notified me at home and I gave Rio a call and got his machine again. I tried his house and Cade said he didn’t come home last night, but he didn’t know he was missing until this morning. I checked Rio’s files. He’d logged the prowler complaint with the address before he went out at ten after nine. We came by immediately and found the front door wide open. The moment we stepped inside and viewed the scene, I called you.”
“Okay.” Wolfe went to work processing the scene.
“Zac, what happened?” Emily’s face had drained of color. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t question the suspect.” Kane raised an eyebrow. “He hasn’t been Mirandized.”
“He’s my friend.” Emily’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “You can’t possibly believe he’d do something like this?” She looked at Rio. “Tell them, Zac. This is crazy.”
Rio lifted his gaze to her. “I didn’t hurt anyone, Em.”
“Do your job, Em, and let us deal with this side of things, okay?” Jenna touched Emily’s arm.
Horrified, Rio stared at Kane. “I’m not a suspect. Have you lost your mind, Dave? I didn’t kill anyone.”
“It’s not looking very good for you right now.” Kane still had hold of his arm. He looked at Wolfe. “What do you need?”
“His clothes but just cover them and his boots for now, bag his hands.” Wolfe turned to Webber. “Go get him a suit.” He looked back at Kane. “We’ll get him covered up for the trip back to my office. Don’t allow him to wash.” He took booties and gloves from his kit and pulled them on and then walked over to Rio and examined his head. “Just one minute.”
Still dizzy, Rio waited as Wolfe peered at him. He blinked at the flashlight aimed at his eyes. “My head hurts and I feel nauseous.”
“You don’t have any head trauma.” Wolfe’s face was unreadable. “Do you often have blackouts, memory loss?”
Rio snorted. “You know darn well my memory is unique and no I don’t suffer blackouts, never until now.” He glanced at the prone figure of the old woman. “What motive would I have for killing her? I came here to help her. This is crazy. I’d never hurt anyone.”
“Roll up your sleeve.” Wolfe turned to Jenna. “I’ll need to take blood, but if he’s been drugged, it could already be out of his system.” He bent to collect the necessary equipment.
Annoyed, that no one believed him but willing to cooperate, Rio stood motionless as Wolfe extracted blood. “Now what?” He looked at Jenna.
“You know the drill, Zac. Now you’ll be locked in a cell until we can sort out this mess.” She read him his rights. “I’m holding you for questioning, for the murder of Flora Carson. You’ll be held in custody pending further investigations. Do you want me to call you a lawyer? Sam Cross?”
Rio shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m going to insist on being examined by an independent doctor. A forensic pathologist from the California State Medical Examiner’s Office, Dr. Susie Cooper.”
“Okay, I can arrange that if I find anything incriminating but don’t you trust me to give an unbiased opinion?” Wolfe frowned.
Rio shook his head. “It seems to me you’ve all made up your mind I murdered that poor woman. I figure if this goes to court, I’ll need all the help I can get.”
TWENTY-SIX
Noting Rio’s obvious disorientation was a double-edged sword. Kane had seen the confusion following date rape dru
gs and he’d witnessed the disbelief when someone realized they’d taken a life in a fit of anger. Both scenarios displayed the similar shocked, bewildered expressions, but he’d never seen any similar behavior from a psychopath. Most, if caught in the act of murder, would try and excuse their actions by concocting a very reasonable excuse. One thing was for darn sure, they wouldn’t be sheet white, trembling, and needing to vomit. Wanting to remove Rio from the carnage and alleviate the shock a little, Kane took him into a hallway and patted him down, removing everything in his pockets and dropping them into evidence bags. He stared at the surgical gloves they all carried in their pockets, and back at Rio’s bloody hands. Rio was a darn good cop and understood everything there was to know about forensic evidence at a crime scene. If he’d intended to kill someone, why not wear a pair of gloves? If he’d happened across the crime scene, following procedure before stepping inside the house and wearing gloves was as natural as breathing.
He’d seen Rio at the practice range and noticed that, like him, he could shoot with accuracy using either hand, but casting his mind back, he recalled Rio favored his left hand. He balled up a pair of booties and tossed them to him. When Rio’s left hand shot out to make the catch, Kane chewed on the inside of his cheek. They’d found the knife beside his right hand and no doubt Rio’s prints would be all over it. He had a hunch and needed to speak to Wolfe. He handed Rio the coveralls. “Can you manage to get into these okay?”
“Yeah.” Rio took them with a shake of his head. “Trust me, if I’d wanted to kill someone, the last thing I’d use is a knife. Someone of her size would go down with one punch, no noise and no mess.” He waved a hand toward the victim’s body. “I’m not a killer, Dave. You know darn well I didn’t kill that woman.” He hopped on one leg getting his feet into the coveralls. “If someone is scrawling lies about me on doors, it screams of a setup.”
Unable to comment on his personal thoughts about the case, Kane played it by the book and shrugged. “You know I can’t comment. It’s in your best interest to allow me to investigate. You of all people should understand how crucial visual observations are at this point of an investigation. Suit up and I’ll bag your hands. It’s only until Wolfe takes a few swabs. Cooperation will get you home sooner. You know that as well as I do.” He walked over to Wolfe and led him away from the others. “Can you tell if a set of fingerprints on a knife are a result of a knife being used as a weapon or pressed on by a third party?”
“There are many clues to deciding if a knife was placed in a suspect’s hand after the fact.” Wolfe kept his voice low and his gaze kept flicking to Rio. “One set of prints on a bloody knife isn’t an indication of guilt. You have your fingerprint scanner on you. Hand it to me.”
Kane took it out of his pocket and dropped it into Wolfe’s palm. “What does this prove?”
“Take out your Ka-Bar knife. Clean it.” Wolfe handed him a wad of cotton. “Place it back inside the sheath. Remove your gloves, take out the knife, and then position it in your hand to kill someone. There is a ton of blood so that knife is getting slippery. How many times during an attack would you reposition your hand?”