Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

A Land of Milk and Honey

A warrant had them into the house by three that afternoon. No restrictions for their search - everything was up for grabs and Lassiter had no intention of allowing one crumb to escape processing.

What he hadn't bargained on - had vehemently argued against until Vick had stepped in and put her foot down hard enough to crack marble - was their tag and bag taking on two additional members. Spencer and Guster stood amidst the blue windbreakers and uniforms like two kittens among a pack of coon hounds. None of the poking, digging, snooping behavior that Lassiter refused to accept that he'd been... hoping for. Spencer only... watched. And Guster only watched Spencer. No matter that Spencer had insisted on coming with. Lassiter wasn't a psychologist but he'd seen what victims experienced when faced with triggers. And this house was one damn giant trigger.

"Lassiter." O'Hara wove past a cluster of CSU - a large evidence bag in her gloved hands – a glass syringe settled at the bottom. "They found this in the refrigerator. It was in the vegetable crisper and crammed in behind some decade old onions. CSU also found some vials of ketamine.”

"Ketamine? But that wasn't detected in any of the bodies that had been examined."

Juliet passed the bag to a nearby investigator. "I asked about that. Either the ketamine broke down before they were discovered or the killer didn't use it on the younger victims. That makes sense, though. Sheffy would have been able to put up more of a fight. Her killer would have needed some leverage to control her."

Looking past his shoulder, Juliet lifted her chin. “How is he doing?”

Barely turning his head, Lassiter watched Spencer for a moment. Guster was standing near his friend with his hands shoved hard in his pockets. “He hasn't freaked out, thrown up, or fainted.” Or spoken.

O'Hara sighed and moved back towards the kitchen at the back of the home. Lassiter followed; keeping in the narrow hallway so he didn't lose sight of the two men only just breaking out of their four foot bubble and starting to explore. Ahead of him, O'Hara stopped at a small kitchen table cluttered with dirty dishes, plastic flowers in a vase, and several pieces of mail.

“All of the envelopes are addressed to an Elizabeth A. Vernon, except for this one.” O'Hara held one white envelope between her gloved fingers.

Lassiter took it and cocked his head at the clear window on the front. “Daniel Vernon. Husband maybe?”

O'Hara shrugged. “The witness didn't indicate a husband. She said that this neighbor, Elisabeth, pretty much kept to herself. Only time she really saw her was when Elisabeth would leave the house in the morning – presumably to go to work.”

“The witness say what kind of car she drove?”

O'Hara nodded – her face grim. “Yes. A gray van. The kind without windows.”

Of course. Lassiter handed back the envelope and turned to check on Spencer... only to find he was no longer in sight.

“Hey! Gruber!” A younger officer, lounging near the front door, straightened and tugged at his sleeves as Lassiter walked back into the living room. “You see where Spencer and Guster wandered off to?”

Gruber scanned the officers and CSU moving throughout the room. “Uhhh...”

“Never mind.” Growling, Lassiter dismissed the man with a hand wave. “O'Hara, contact McNab and have him look up both Elizabeth and Daniel Vernon. See if he can get a license plate on the van or any other vehicles. Also, have him pull the phone records...”

O'Hara shook her head. “Actually we haven't located a phone here and so far there's no sign of a cell phone – or any technology for that matter.”