A police car rolls up the driveway, its tires crunching dead leaves and dry dirt. It pulls up beside Sheriff Stevens onto the grass, marking its territory. Deputy Marcus Hudson steps out of the car. He looks like a G.I. Joe action figure in his uniform and a pair of aviators.

“What are you doing here, Deputy Hudson?” Sheriff Stevens calls out to him. He stands from the bench and walks to the stairs of the porch. Deputy Hudson takes a few steps toward him and crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he were actually here to protect and serve. Although, who here needs that protection is unclear.

“Just checking to see if you need any assistance.” Deputy Hudson looks around nonchalantly and then returns his attention to Sheriff Stevens.

“I don’t,” Sheriff Stevens says dismissively.

“Mind if I wait out here then?” He leans against the hood of his vehicle.

“Knock yourself out.” Sheriff Stevens turns back toward me, while Deputy Hudson removes his aviators and narrows his eyes… seemingly directed at me.

“Are you ready to go inside?” Sheriff Stevens asks. I nod, and he helps me up from the bench.

We walk through the front door, ducking under the crime scene tape. Inside, the house is still. Many things are strewn about, which I’m sure is from the police search.

In the kitchen I set down my coffee cup and the folder. I glance around trying to spot anything out of place. The kitchen appears to be well kept, despite random cupboards and drawers left partially open.

In the living room the bearskin rug is kicked up. The decorative couch pillows and throw blankets are on the floor, but other than that everything else is in place, including the built-in bookshelf. Every book is pushed in and facing the correct direction. I look at the wet bar and notice the uncapped scotch decanter.

I point to it. “Was that tested?”

Sheriff Stevens walks a couple of steps from the kitchen into the open-concept living room.

“Not that I’m aware. What should it be tested for?” He takes a few more steps and stands beside me.

“Well if Rohypnol was found in Kelly’s body—maybe, this is how it got there.” I put the cap back on the decanter. Sheriff Stevens rubs his chin.

“Good point,” he says. “When we’re done here. I’ll have Deputy Hudson do another once-through.” He pulls out a pen and a small notepad from his pocket and jots down a few things.