A Deadly Game Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Catherine Crier
top of the washing machine. "The maid probably used those the other day," Scott volunteered. "They were in the washing machine. I took them out so I could put my clothes in."
Reaching inside, the detective pulled out a pair of blue jeans, a blue T-shirt, and a green pullover.
"Those are the clothes I wore fishing today," Scott said. "Why did you wash them as soon as you got home?" "They were wet from the bay and the rain." Having spotted an overflowing laundry basket in the master bedroom, Brocchini wondered why Scott hadn't added these items to his small wash load. When he asked about the Petersons' maid, Scott explained that it had been her third time to the house. She was hired to clean every other Monday.
Breaking with protocol, Brocchini now decided to proceed with a full-blown investigation based on an assumption of foul play. "Can I get her phone number?" he asked Scott. "And can I get a look at your cell phone for the call history?"
Scott handed over his phone and watched as the detective copied down all of the incoming and outgoing calls.
At one point during the walk-through, Brocchini noticed the couple's golden retriever in the backyard. The dog hadn't barked when he and Evers first entered the house, and Brocchini was curious to see how McKenzie would respond to him. Stepping outside, he approached the retriever, who greeted him happily when the detective knelt down to pet him.
"That's unusual," Scott remarked.
"Is he your dog?"
"Yeah."
"How old is he?"
"He's about eight or nine years old. I've had him since before I was married."
"Is he protective of Laci?"
"Yeah, like around the pool man if I'm not here."
Outside the back door, Brocchini saw the bucket and two mops. Scott said that Laci had been cleaning that morning.
"I brought the bucket in and set it near the front door," Scott explained. "When I left to go fishing, Laci was mopping."
"How did the mops get outside?"
Scott explained that when he entered through the back door, his pets raced in ahead of him. When the cat ran toward the bucket, he said, he took it outside and dumped the water, afraid the cat might drink from it if he left it visible.
Leaving the house, Brocchini strode over to Scott's bronze-colored 2002 Ford pickup. It was backed in facing the street, next to a dark green Land Rover parked in the opposite direction.
"Can I look inside the car?"
"Yeah," Scott replied, unlocking the vehicle with a remote key.
In the cargo bed of the four-door F-150, there were five four-foot long patio umbrellas wrapped in a blue tarp. Scott said that he'd intended to store the umbrellas at his shop, but simply forgot to take them out on his two trips to the warehouse that day. The expensive umbrellas had been left in the open truck bed the entire time Scott was out on the bay. Next to the umbrellas was a toolbox containing some articles of clothing, a nylon rope, and a bag of shotgun shells. A light brown canvas tarp lay bunched up near the vehicle's tailgate.
Moving forward to the passenger compartment, the detective swung open the driver's door. When it bumped against Laci's vehicle, Scott immediately demanded he stop the search.
"I can move the truck forward," Scott said. Then, producing a glove, he offered to hold it between the door and the Land Rover.
Brocchini promised to be more careful, but he was surprised at Scott's reaction. Was this young man more interested in a scratch on his car than the safety of his wife? This was a moment worth noting. In my experience, a close family member who worries about protecting his property at a time like this is a suspect who should be watched. None of the items in Scott and Laci's home were damaged. Yet, even as the police were watching him, Scott let his proprietary interest in the SUV overwhelm both his concern for his wife and his common sense. In hindsight, Scott's behavior suggests control issues as well: From these early moments, he began posturing aggressively around the detective
Reaching inside, the detective pulled out a pair of blue jeans, a blue T-shirt, and a green pullover.
"Those are the clothes I wore fishing today," Scott said. "Why did you wash them as soon as you got home?" "They were wet from the bay and the rain." Having spotted an overflowing laundry basket in the master bedroom, Brocchini wondered why Scott hadn't added these items to his small wash load. When he asked about the Petersons' maid, Scott explained that it had been her third time to the house. She was hired to clean every other Monday.
Breaking with protocol, Brocchini now decided to proceed with a full-blown investigation based on an assumption of foul play. "Can I get her phone number?" he asked Scott. "And can I get a look at your cell phone for the call history?"
Scott handed over his phone and watched as the detective copied down all of the incoming and outgoing calls.
At one point during the walk-through, Brocchini noticed the couple's golden retriever in the backyard. The dog hadn't barked when he and Evers first entered the house, and Brocchini was curious to see how McKenzie would respond to him. Stepping outside, he approached the retriever, who greeted him happily when the detective knelt down to pet him.
"That's unusual," Scott remarked.
"Is he your dog?"
"Yeah."
"How old is he?"
"He's about eight or nine years old. I've had him since before I was married."
"Is he protective of Laci?"
"Yeah, like around the pool man if I'm not here."
Outside the back door, Brocchini saw the bucket and two mops. Scott said that Laci had been cleaning that morning.
"I brought the bucket in and set it near the front door," Scott explained. "When I left to go fishing, Laci was mopping."
"How did the mops get outside?"
Scott explained that when he entered through the back door, his pets raced in ahead of him. When the cat ran toward the bucket, he said, he took it outside and dumped the water, afraid the cat might drink from it if he left it visible.
Leaving the house, Brocchini strode over to Scott's bronze-colored 2002 Ford pickup. It was backed in facing the street, next to a dark green Land Rover parked in the opposite direction.
"Can I look inside the car?"
"Yeah," Scott replied, unlocking the vehicle with a remote key.
In the cargo bed of the four-door F-150, there were five four-foot long patio umbrellas wrapped in a blue tarp. Scott said that he'd intended to store the umbrellas at his shop, but simply forgot to take them out on his two trips to the warehouse that day. The expensive umbrellas had been left in the open truck bed the entire time Scott was out on the bay. Next to the umbrellas was a toolbox containing some articles of clothing, a nylon rope, and a bag of shotgun shells. A light brown canvas tarp lay bunched up near the vehicle's tailgate.
Moving forward to the passenger compartment, the detective swung open the driver's door. When it bumped against Laci's vehicle, Scott immediately demanded he stop the search.
"I can move the truck forward," Scott said. Then, producing a glove, he offered to hold it between the door and the Land Rover.
Brocchini promised to be more careful, but he was surprised at Scott's reaction. Was this young man more interested in a scratch on his car than the safety of his wife? This was a moment worth noting. In my experience, a close family member who worries about protecting his property at a time like this is a suspect who should be watched. None of the items in Scott and Laci's home were damaged. Yet, even as the police were watching him, Scott let his proprietary interest in the SUV overwhelm both his concern for his wife and his common sense. In hindsight, Scott's behavior suggests control issues as well: From these early moments, he began posturing aggressively around the detective
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