Read Habit for Free Online Page B

reliever. He left them on the small shelf.
    The bathroom appeared undisturbed. The translucent plastic curtain was pushed back, from Rebecca Heilshorn’s last shower. The tub was the kind which sat up on feet – the curled paws of some animal, making Brendan think of the heraldic lion on the knife blades. The sink had a rust stain beneath the old fashioned faucet. The rubber drain plug was mildewed. A bar of hand soap sat in a dish. There was a toilet with a chain flush, and a small wicker laundry hamper. Brendan lifted the lid. There were only a few articles of clothing – maybe what the victim had on before her shower. He reached in with his gloved hand and found a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt which read “Born Lucky – Lucky Jeans,” some ankle socks, a pair of underwear, and what may have been the outfit from the day before – jeans, a white blouse with a frilly open collar, and another set of socks and underwear. Either Rebecca had been a very tidy housekeeper who did laundry daily, or she had just arrived at the house.
    Brendan made a note in his pad to ask about a housekeeper or caretaker. The house certainly didn’t feel lived in. The bedroom and kitchen were the only places with signs of life. The bathroom was well-kempt. There were no stray hairs or soap scum. Nothing, in fact, anywhere in the house seemed to have much dust on it.
    He left the bathroom. There was a linen closet on his right, the next door down. The careful arrangement of clean towels and bedding also suggested a very tidy person or help with the housekeeping.
    The door at the end of the hallway led to another bedroom. It was nearly twice the size of the bedroom where the victim had been discovered. Bright light shone around the edges of the drawn blinds – fabric blinds that were of a dark, blood-red. The room was much darker than the victim’s bedroom. Those blinds, Brendan recalled, had all been up. The room had been bright. The windows, though, the way the sun had burned through them, they had been dirty.
    So, a housekeeper then who “didn’t do windows.” It was laughably clichéd.
    There were two dressers – one tall, one wide, like the bureau in the victim’s room with the opened drawers. The ones in here were oak, of a set, no doubt. They appeared new. In fact, the bed’s mattress was wrapped in plastic.
    The ceiling was slanted on either side of the south-facing dormer window. To the right of the dormer, a door led to another bathroom. Brendan walked through the dim room across carpeting which was plush but faded. He clicked the light on in the dark bathroom.
    Recently refurbished. A new Jacuzzi, replete with water jets. A new double sink, new cabinetry, light fixtures, the works. It was possible that Rebecca Heilshorn was using the bedroom down the hall while this one, the master bedroom, was being finished. The new mattress, matching bureau set, new bathroom appliances and fixtures – it was a room under construction. Even so, it didn’t tell him much. And Kevin was waiting, and the K9 unit would be here any moment.
     
    * * *
     
    He stepped outside into the bright sunlight. He fished his sunglasses out of his inside jacket pocket. Kevin Heilshorn was sitting near where Brendan had left him, picking at the grass between his legs, slumped forward. Deputy Bostrom was nowhere to be seen. Vehicles were everywhere. A dog started barking. The K9 unit had already arrived, and one of the German Shepherds was pulling a cop towards the shed.
    Brendan instantly got going. He’d had a feeling about that shed since he’d first arrived. He jumped from the doorway and started trotting over to the K9 cop and the dog. The dog was really pulling on the leash, straining to get to that shed.
    “Oh my God,” said Brendan. He didn’t know why he said it, it just slipped out.
    In his peripheral vision he saw Kevin Heilshorn stand and dust off the back of his pants. The K9 unit reached the edge of the shed just as Brendan caught up to