Marcus and Melody walked up the drive to the neat, three story house with its off-white exterior and beige trimming. Surrounded by trees and hedges it really blended into the background.
"If I wanted to hide from the world this is where I would come." Melody commented as they approached the door, criss-crossed in police tape. Robert Jones and Kyle Porter were standing in front of the door chatting with each other. Both detectives were dressed in suits and tie and Marcus sent a prayer hevenward thanking God he didn't have to dress like that in the summertime.
Seeing the twins come up the drive, both cops stopped talking and watched them approach.
Robert Jones was the senior partner. A good looking african-american man approching retirement age with years of police work under his belt. His hair had turned a salt and pepper but he wore it with dignity.
Kyle Porter, in his fourties and looking ten years younger than that, greeted them with a grimace that he tried to pass off as a smile. His blue eyes read his disagreement with the Leutenant's decision.
Robert moved to the door, pulling away the tape and opening the lock with the key. Pushing the door open, he let the brother and sister in, following them closely.
"No chance of trusting us and letting us take a tour on our own?" Marcus asked not hoping for a positive answer.
"Sorry, Marcus, but if you screw up the crime scene it's our ass not yours."
"I thought the techs went home."
"They did but they haven't cleared it for anything but police investigation. The Leutenant did some fancy two stepping to get you included in that definition."
Walking through the breezeway, they passed a living room to the left and went straight into an open and airy kitchen/dining room set up with a sliding glass door leading to a small but plentiful garden. Denise Callaway loved her flora and fauna.
The stopped at the dining room table where a chalk outline was drawn. It looked more like a sidewalk artist's attempt at an impressionistic painting than it did a human outline.
"It's not easy tracing charcoal," Porter said, disgust for whoever reduced the woman to said charcoal evident in his voice.
"I can see that," Marcus replied and then gave the room a cursory glance. The outline was not near any plug-ins and no kitchen apparatus such as a hot plate, microwave or coffee maker was anywhere near the scene either.
His once over also confirmed Jackson's run down of the crime scene - nothing else had been touched by the blaze. Hunching down he visually examined the floor beneath the outline. It was tile and there wasn't a mark on it.
Shaking his head he stood again, brushing off the palms of his hands which had seemed to get dusty all of a sudden even though he had not touched anything.
"We're waiting for an out-of-state daughter to arrive and check her possessions but nothing seems touched." Jones supplied.
"So robbery is supposidly not a motive."
"Even if it were robbery," Porter said,"What robber comes in and torches the person and then steals the valuables. A gun is quicker and you don't have any chance of setting the house on fire before you rob it."
"True, but the house never caught on fire."
Marcus looked over at Melody who shrugged. With the detectives there there wasn't a lot they could hope to accomlish.
"Okay," Her twin said,"I think we've seen enough. If we can get over to Brice's place and have a quick look around I'm sure you gentlemen have leads to follow up on."
They all filed toward the front door but Jones was shaking his head.
"That's the problem. We don't have any leads. Not one. Not one Goddamn clue about what went on here."