Patrick, Kenzie, Teresa, Rigsby, and Van Pelt walked into the front entrance of the Calistoga Canyon Resort, listening to Teresa read off her notebook.
"We've got Claire Wolcott, female, Caucasian, 32 years old. Found shot to death in her room. Her husband has friends in the Governor's office. He called in some favors; wants the investigation to be kept discreet and low key."
Kenzie's face scrunched in disgust.
"His wife is murdered, and his priority is discretion?" asked Rigsby.
The team walked inside the villa to see candles set up near the bed. An empty bottle of champagne sat in an ice bath with two half-filled glasses near it. An expensive dress, high heels, and silk lingerie were tossed on the floor. Claire Wolcott laid naked on a blood-soaked silk sheet. A pillow adjacent to her was dented, and a door to the patio was half open.
Kenzie's face fell in understanding. "Oh."
"Oh. Okay," said Rigsby.
"Yup. Mrs. Wolcott was cheating on Mr. Wolcott," said Teresa.
"Which makes Mr. Wolcott suspect number one."
"Well, no. It would make him number two. Number one would be Mrs. Wolcott's mystery lover," explained Kenzie, leaning over Teresa's shoulder as she read her notebook. "The room's registered under Claire Wolcott, so no help there. At 2:24 AM, the night staff and a few guests heard three gunshots. Nobody could tell from where exactly. 15-20 minutes later, hotel staff checked the room and called 911."
"Boom. Found a shell," explained Rigsby. He picked up the shell casting with a pen and inspected it. "Nine millimeter."
"Leave it for forensics," said Teresa.
Van Pelt pointed to another shell on the floor. "And another."
"So the lover didn't do it," said Patrick.
"Because...?"
"Casings indicate the shooter was across the room here," answered Patrick as he acted out the murder. "He or she stepped in from outside and started blasting away. If the lover had done it, he'd have been closer to the victim. Wouldn't have needed to shoot so many times. And look..."
He pointed to a spot of blood on the floor that was some distance from the bed. The others looked at it.
"Circular. Meaning a vertical drip from someone standing right here bleeding, right? Not spatter from the victim."
"Since when did you become a forensics expert?" teased Patrick.
"So Claire and mystery lover are asleep. Someone comes in through the open door. Shoots them and leaves. Poor lover is woken by a bullet, Clarie dead beside him." He acted out, waking and finding a dead body next to him. "But then nobody comes right away. Mystery lover, who is only slightly wounded, gets to thinking maybe it would be best to just slip away."
He walks out of the patio door with Kenzie following him. He crossed the courtyard, searched the ground, and found a tiny spot on the pathway.
"There we go."
There's a trail of blood leading down the path and into a parking lot. It disappeared. They combed the lot for more spots.
"You find anything," asked Kenzie.
"No. You?"
"Nuh-uh."
He eyed the car near the last blood spot. It's a high-end white Cadillac with a license reading: "DOCLADY".
The two walked into the reception area and were talking to a concierge behind a counter. The concierge was checking the computer.
"The silver Caddy arrived last night, 2:30." said the concierge.
YOU ARE READING
I Bet on Losing Dogs - Patrick Jane
Fanfiction"I bet on losing dogs, I know they're losing, and I'll pay for my place by the ring, Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down, ...
