I should have taken a vacation. Hell, I needed one. Especially walking into this mess. But, no. Stupid me, I had to barrel in and get involved.
It should have been an average Monday. My task list included taking my dog to the vet, meeting with my mentor, then inspecting a couple of vacant houses I owned. The first two items went off without a hitch. But the moment Roxie started barking when we stepped into the first house, I should have packed up and made for the Rockies . My life would be less of a mess that way.
"Quit that racket! Stupid dog!" I followed my yowling yellow Labrador into the gray and maroon two-story Victorian. Where was my property manager, Tyrone Clermont? I'd been waiting for him well past our 1:30 appointment. Key in hand, I stomped through the door to begin the inspection myself.
I glanced through the dim foyer, trying to locate the light switch. Despite the crystalline March afternoon outside, the sunshine failed to permeate the dusty windows. Maybe I'd find Tyrone upstairs. I hadn't seen his Toyota Camry on the street outside, but it couldn't hurt to check.
"Roxie, come here!" I stepped beyond the foyer, and a metallic stench filled my nostrils. "Jeez, if I have to clean this place from top to bottom, this is coming out of their security deposit."
The sound of my dog's barking led me to the rear of the house.
In the middle of the dining room, a man lay in a pool of blood.