Kane took the samples back to the family room and, leaning against a dresser, labeled each one then stashed them in a main evidence bag. He turned to Deputy Rowley. “I’m labeling these specimens ‘Rogers House,’ then the room and numbering each one.”

“Sure thing.”

Kane watched as Rowley collected a couple of what looked like fingernails and bagged them. “When you spoke to Mrs. Rogers at her sister’s house, did she say when she would be returning home?”

“When hell freezes over, I believe.”

Kane glanced around. “No wonder the place is such a mess.”

Taking his time, he moved through the house, doing a preliminary search. Most of the rooms appeared undisturbed but the main bedroom had clothes on the floor, and on the unmade bed sat a laptop. He bagged the device then did a quick search of the area. Taking photographs of each section, he opened the cupboard doors and peered inside. The couple had a his-and-hers built-in wardrobe, and from the amount of clothes hanging on Mrs. Rogers’ side, she had not taken much with her. The racks appeared full and the neatly lined-up rows of shoes undisturbed. He had known frightened women to walk out with just the clothes on their back, but she had not mentioned her husband had abused her. Something isn’t right here.

He turned a full circle, examining the room in small sections, then noticed the purse tucked down beside the bed. His wife, Annie, had kept her purse next to the bed and her cellphone on the bedside table; maybe all women did the same—except Jenna, she kept a loaded Glock 22 beside her bed. He smiled at the conflicting memories and bent to retrieve the purse. Inside he found the normal array of female necessities but goosebumps prickled his flesh at the sight of a wallet and credit cards.

He reached for his cellphone and dialed Mrs. Rogers’ number. A ringtone blasted, sending his heart racing. He slid open the top drawer of the nightstand and the bright light from the screen illuminated the contents. The cellphone sat beside a carved wooden box containing an assortment of gold jewelry.

He disconnected and stared at the cellphone in disbelief. Sure, a woman might leave in a hurry during an argument but not without her purse, jewelry, and cellphone. Mrs. Rogers had been at her sister’s when Rowley had taken her statement. She had made a point of saying she would be staying with her sister, and his gut screamed that something did not gel. A pang of worry curled in his gut as he stared at the cellphone sitting in the drawer. He called Jenna and waited for her to pick up. “I’ve found Mrs. Rogers’ cellphone here at Rogers’ house and her purse but before we jump to conclusions we’ll need to check if she is still staying with her sister.”

“I’ll ask Maggie to give her a call. Perhaps she wanted to break all contact with her husband?”

Frowning at the open purse, he sighed. “I hope so but I don’t know many women who would leave home without their purse, credit cards, and cellphone. The entire situation isn’t sitting right with me. I’ll keep looking around and see what I can find.”

“Bag and tag and I’ll try to find her. You might want to check her calls and see who she contacted. If I find her in the meantime, I’ll get back to you.”

“Roger that.” He hung up, removed the cellphone from the evidence bag, and finding it unlocked, scrolled through the list of recent calls and texts.

He found the usual banter between two sisters and a few references to her husband being a pig, meeting other women, and spending too much time in town with his students. He recognized the number of her last call and, replacing the cellphone in the evidence bag, pulled out his own device and scrolled down his contacts. He blinked in confusion. The last person she called was Jake Rowley.

What the hell is going on here? He jogged down the stairs and came close to colliding with Rowley as he came through the family room door. “Did you receive a call from Mrs. Rogers after you’d interviewed her?”

“Yeah.” Rowley gave him a bemused stare and pulled out his cellphone. “I must have been calling someone because she left a message. When I returned the call, she didn’t pick up.” He hit a button and replayed the message.

“Deputy Rowley, this is Millicent Rogers. You said to contact you if I remembered anything and I have. I will call you back in the morning.”

“With all that has been going on, I completely forgot to mention the call to you.” Rowley looked chagrined.

“I understand, it has been hectic and it sure doesn’t sound like she was in trouble or worried about her husband. If the sheriff locates her, we’ll follow up on what she remembered.” Kane headed upstairs to search the bathroom.

The dirty laundry hamper overflowed onto a pile of wet stinking towels on the floor. Photographing everything as he moved through the area, he noticed the neatly lined-up beauty products on the shelves. The mess was certainly not usual for Mrs. Rogers and again, women who come back to pack take everything; hell, he had a good idea how much money women spent on face cream alone. Glad of the face mask, he bagged all the dirty clothes and pushed the towels into a separate bag. Concern for Mrs. Rogers’ welfare became a priority. He collected the hairbrush and toothbrushes in case Wolfe could find a DNA sample. Something stinks and it isn’t the dirty laundry.

Mind reeling with confusion, Kane went downstairs and back into the kitchen. He noticed a few dark spots on the ceiling and took samples. The idea Rogers had murdered his wife flashed in his mind like a neon sign but the practical side of his brain insisted a psychopathic killer capable of dissecting three young women and putting them on display would be unlikely at best to risk murdering his wife. Add the fact he had searched every damn inch of the place and so far had found nothing in relation to the three victims. Psychopathic murderers keep trophies, and if Rogers had hidden them somewhere, they would be easily accessible. The need to touch and relive the thrill was a common trait. He met Rowley in the hallway. “I’ve found nothing relating to the victims. You?”

“Nope, mostly dust and a few smears of something on the hall floor. I’ve marked it and taken samples.” Rowley’s dark eyes moved toward the hallway. “If it is blood, then it’s feasible something or someone was wrapped in the Chinese rug and dragged out the back door. I found a couple of dark spots in the laundry; the back door leads to the garage.”

A tingle of worry crawled up Kane’s spine. “Wolfe gave me a test kit. If it’s blood, we need to call Wolfe.” He strolled into the family room and retrieved the kit from his bag.

The test was simple enough: drop a swab into a small test tube and shake. He flicked a gaze at Rowley, who watched him with interest. “Yeah, it’s blood. I’ll call Wolfe then I guess I’ll have to check the cellar.”

“You must hate checking cellars?”

After finding two bodies and Jenna fighting for her life in various cellars six months previously, he understood Rowley’s worries. “Yeah, I do. Let’s hope this one’s empty.”

He contacted Wolfe and gave him the rundown on the situation and Wolfe had offered to take over. He sighed with relief—once he cleared the cellar, he could get back to the office and go over the facts and timeline with Jenna. As he had not heard back from her on Mrs. Rogers’ whereabouts, the possibility something had happened to her shouted loudly in his head.

After a quick search, he found the cellar door in the laundry room and, ignoring the morbid anticipation rushing into his mind, headed down the steps. The overhead lights flooded the room but he found nothing but a boiler and a few storage boxes. With Rowley working beside him, they went through each carton and found Christmas decorations and old clothes. The light coating of dust on the floor and his and Rowley’s footprints gave him the impression no one had been down there for some time.

“Okay, this is a dead end. Did you check every nook and cranny, any place someone might hide something?”

“Yeah, when you went upstairs I checked the kitchen cupboards, opened all the containers, and found nothing.” Rowley’s Adam’s apple moved up and down. “I did find porn but nothing illegal. No young girls.”

“Okay.” Kane collected all the evidence bags, placed them inside one large bag, sealed it, then headed toward the front door. “I need some air.”

On the porch, he pulled down his mask and frowned at Rowley. “The sort of women who arouse a killer doesn’t mean it’s the kind he prefers to murder. Some types trigger a response—say, for instance, a blonde skinny girl at school made him look stupid in front of his friends then the killer would more likely marry a curvaceous brunette and murder blonde skinny girls. To a psychopath, rape and murder are punishment. Child abuse can trigger a psychopathic response, which remains semi-dormant until something happens, and as kids, they usually take it out on their pets. The cat scratched him, so he killed it because he has power over the cat, the power he didn’t have as a kid.”

“I see, so Rogers could still be our man?”

Kane’s attention moved to the arrival of Wolfe’s SUV. “Yeah, we just need to build a case, and so far, apart from being in the same location at the time of two of the murders, we have zip.” Wondering why Jenna had not contacted him about Mrs. Rogers, he rubbed his chin. “I just hope he didn’t murder his wife.”