The Divine Appointment by Jerome Teel Read Free Book Online

eight to ten hours, I’d guess,” Sergeant Lee Dodson responded from his crouched position beside the body on the living-room floor. The dead female was fully clothed, in red satin pajamas. “Her body is stiff. But the coroner should be able to give us a more exact time of death this afternoon.” Dodson exhaled and shook his head. “It’s a tough way to start a Friday.”
    Dodson stood as Brantley approached, finished making a few notes in his notepad, and tucked it back into the breast pocket of his blue blazer. The two watched as employees of the Davidson County coroner’s office zipped the black body bag and loaded the victim onto a gurney.
    “Do you have an ID on her?” Brantley asked.
    “Jessica Caldwell,” Dodson responded, retrieving his notepad and flipping through it. “Twenty-seven years old. Lawyer with McAllister and Finch, downtown.”
    Brantley studied the scene from different angles. Nothing was disturbed. Nothing appeared to be missing. The television, DVD player, and other electronic devices were visible and undamaged. A laptop computer was open on the kitchen table. It didn’t appear that robbery was the motive.
    “Lawyer?” Brantley responded as he walked and thought. “That should make for a long list of suspects.”
    “Not this one. She had only been working there three months. Not enough time to make a lot of enemies.”
    “Cause of death?”
    “We don’t know yet. Her secretary called the precinct and asked us to check on Ms. Caldwell when she missed an appointment this morning, and no one could get a response by phone or at her door. Two officers on first-shift patrol found her lying on the floor. No vital signs and no sign of forced entry. Medical examiner said it looked like strangulation, but he won’t know for sure until the autopsy is complete.”
    As the death-laden gurney exited the town house onto the sidewalk, Brantley turned toward the glass table behind the sofa that was cluttered with photographs. He picked up one that was in a brass frame and stared at the smiling, auburn-haired, brown-eyed woman. “This her?”
    Dodson glanced at the photograph. “That’s her. Attractive, wasn’t she?”
    “I’ll say.”
    “I’ve got a daughter a few years younger. Makes me sick to my stomach. You got any kids, Brantley?”
    “Two boys. Ten and twelve.”
    “Hug ’em while you can,” Dodson advised. “They’ll be grown before you know it.”
    The detectives’ philosophical moment was interrupted by one of the crime scene investigators.
    “I’ve got two sets of prints over here, Detective,” said the officer who was dusting the inside doorknob on the front door. “And another set on the outside doorknob.”
    “Good work,” Dodson replied as he pivoted toward the front doorway. “Be careful when you lift them. We don’t want any mistakes with this one.”
    As he left Brantley looked over his shoulder and spoke to Sergeant Charlotte Crossley, the investigator in charge of the crime scene team. Crossley was sharp. She’d been with the department for fifteen years, and had been the first African-American woman to earn the rank of sergeant.
    “Sergeant, run those prints through both the state and FBI data banks and see if you come up with any matches.”
    Sergeant Crossley nodded her understanding and continued dusting the coffee table near where the body had been discovered. Brantley glanced around at the team of crime scene investigators who scurried about the interior of the town house searching for any clue that might lead to the arrest of, and hopefully the conviction of, the perpetrator of the murder of Jessica Caldwell.
    “Y’all take your time in here, Sergeant,” Brantley instructed. “Dodson and I are going to contact the girl’s family and begin to interview neighbors and coworkers. Let me know if you find anything else.”
    Dodson and Brantley left Jessica Caldwell’s town house to undertake one of the most difficult tasks a person could perform: