It was a day of reflection for Maria, brought on by the date (February 14) and the case she was working on.
Upon waking, the date in mind, her thoughts had immediately flown to her parents (deceased for eight years now) and the love and devotion between then. They had their moments, disagreements, crosswords, but at the end of the day, the love the care the affection was there, intact! She couldn’t imagine a future in which that wasn’t the case for them, and it was a delight to watch and enjoy. Until the fateful day, they were tragically murdered during a home invasion. Not that they had anything of particular value, but it hadn’t mattered to the perps that killed them so sadistically, wantonly.
Today, as she entered a similar scene, she could clearly picture what had happened to her parents, the scenario was that similar, and her quickly indrawn breath and pinched face told the story. Sucking in a cleansing breath, shaking her shoulders and easing her neck, she relaxed into the moment. She had a job to do. She couldn’t allow any distractions to interfere. These people, this couple, deserved justice and she was here to see they got it!
She nodded at the other cops standing outside the door, and entered, bewildered at first. Odd, the shoes were lined up neatly in a row, his then hers even though there a rack stood in the closet for the shoes to sit on. Moving forward, she noticed clothes had been laid out evenly spaced, neat and tidy.
Were these people OCD or had the killer moved things about? She moved to the kitchen and opened the cupboard doors. Nothing was particularly straight here, things weren’t chaotic, but they weren’t lined up and in a row. Interesting, she thought. Moving into the hallways where the first victim had been found, she peered across into the bathroom, the towels were lined up. She cocked her head at the thought a killer might have done this and if so, left prints and possibly, DNA behind. That would be a blessing in disguise!
The husband was in the bedroom, he’d gone to retrieve a gun to protect them but he’d been too late. Tragic, so utterly tragic. They were in a higher tax bracket than her parents when they’d been murdered, but sadly, dead was dead and grief would its toll.
Squaring her shoulders, she asked that the forensic team take particular note of the areas that were streamlined, the shoes, the clothes, and anything else that they might consider unusually OCD as the couple weren’t. Maria hoped so.
Time to interview everyone that knew them learn more about their particular story. Looking back across her shoulder she thought again about devotion. She was positive devotion had lived in this house! She smiled at the thought.