Shattered Shell by Brendan DuBois Page A

then we can talk to the landlord."
    "Sounds good," I said, and we went upstairs. There was a small landing and doors to the left and right. The nameplate on the left was empty and the one on the right said MILES. The area around the doorknob was dirty, and I recognized the light gray powder that cops use when they're looking for latent fingerprints. Felix turned away from the other door and gave me a quizzical look and I said, "Yeah, the apartment across the way is empty, has been for a couple of months. Kara's by herself up here."
    “You got the key?" Felix asked.
    "I do," I said.
    "Then let's go in."
    "Fine."
     
     
    The door opened with no problem and we stood there, just taking in the small apartment. There was a short hallway, leading into a kitchen and dining area. To the right was the living room, with couch, chairs, television and stereo, a couple of bookcases, and a large, woven tapestry hanging on the far wall, showing a mountain scene. We were in an entryway with a coat rack, open closet, step off pad for dirty boots, and a small table that held a collection of mail. On the floor by the table were a couple of small, square, black zippered bags that looked like carry-on luggage. To the left was a bathroom, and beyond that another door, which was open and led to the bedroom.
    "Cozy," Felix said.
    "That's right," I replied, and closed the door behind us. We both took off our coats and hung them up, and Felix dropped his camera bag on the floor. I noticed that as we went into the living room, we were talking with low voices, like we were both trying not to disturb anything, being in a sacred place that had been desecrated by some old horror.
    But not too old. Only a few days old.
    In the living room Felix knelt on the couch and looked outside the window, the curtains on either side already open. Without his coat I saw he was carrying his Smith & Wesson 9mm in his shoulder holster. "Clear view," he said. "Guy standing out there could get a good look in if he wanted to."
    "I was thinking about that," I said. "And I think the same is true for the kitchen."
    In the kitchen some dishes were still piled up in the sink, and I had an urge to wash and put them away. The kitchen was big with a square oak table and four chairs, and more mail piled up on the table, along with a candle-and-flower centerpiece. Felix opened up the refrigerator and closed it and I noticed him looking at the photographs taped up there. Most were similar to the ones back at Diane's condo, showing Diane and Kara together, arms around each other, and Felix looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
    "They speak for themselves," I said. "Let's poke around some more."
    We walked through the bathroom, quickly noting there was no window for the benefit of any Peeping Toms, and then we were into the bedroom, and something tugged at my throat. The bedroom door was also dusty, where the cops had looked for latents, and there was a wide bed in the center of the room, a short four-poster. The mattress was bare and some sheets and pillows had been tossed in the corner. The mattress was askew and I tried not to think of the awful violence that had been committed there. Again, just like in the kitchen, I had the urge to clean this place lip, to ask Felix to help me haul away the bedding and burn it at some faraway place, and instead I kept my mouth shut. The two windows had their shades drawn and Felix and I went over and lined them up and saw that they looked out over the small yard. A couple of evergreens blocked any view.
    "So much for someone from a neighboring house seeing Kara going to bed," I said. "Unless he had been up in one of those trees, and with the weather we've been having... "
    Felix grunted. ''Yeah. Good point. Tell me again what she said happened?"
    "She said she was sleeping when someone came into the room. She sat up and a guy jumped on her, threatened to slit her throat. She fought back a bit and he beat her up some as ... as he raped her."
    “Did