Mike crumpled, dropping the phone to the ground. His heart was breaking and his mind was racing all at once. He studied the bedroom – window open, big muddy footprints on the pale carpet intermingled with the blood spatter there and on the bedpost. So much blood. He just knew in his heart that his sister had been taken by the serial killer that they were tracking. He was an evil monster and so far they hadn’t rescued anyone – three woman dead and now he had taken his sister. Amanda walked over to him and put her hand on his back. “Mike, we’ll find her. We’ll get this bastard, you’ll see. We got enough trace of the drug this time that we can identify it, which means we can trace it.”
Mike couldn’t see how things were going to change. God how was he going to tell their mother? This was an unmitigated disaster. He knew he should have brought her home with him. He’d tried to force her but she had dug her heels in and insisted on looking after herself. He admired her tenacity and her spirit but in this case… Bloody hell, why did John have to go out of town now? God, John? How was he going to tell John?
Amanda’s voice finally got through to him. “What was that ‘Manda?”, he asked as he straightened up and shook his head in effort to clear it.
She looked at him for a brief moment, as if measuring him up, then she nodded, seemingly satisfied that he would be able to handle what came next. Although with such a personal connection to the case, he wouldn’t be allowed to stay on as primary. But that wasn’t for her to decide. She knew Sam, she liked her a lot and she was damned if she would try to hold Mike back from investigating this. No, leave that job to the boss. “I was just confirming that the blood is likely from a head wound so it looks a lot worse than it might be. So that’s a good thing.”
Mike forced himself to really study the scene. Get out of your head, he told himself. Stop thinking about Sam. Do the job. He considered the spray pattern, the positioning, the voids in the pattern. Amanda was right, this was a head wound. Those things bled like a mother.
“Right. Thanks Amanda – good thinking. Let’s get on with it. This ends now.”