His plan of attack was to search the second floor first in case the police showed up, so he moved to the stairs, checking each step as he climbed. He cleared the landing quickly, then went to the office. Pike had already briefed him on the layout.

The office was nicely furnished, and clearly belonged to someone who had enjoyed a successful career in television. Framed credits from crime shows that were no longer on the air dotted the walls, most of which Cole recognized by the actors. The credits all showed the same name. Produced by Steve Brown. Written by Steve Brown. Directed by Steve Brown.

Though Cole didn’t recognize the name, he liked the shows.

“Nice work, Steve. Well done.”

Though the room was well furnished, Cole noticed empty places on the walls where pictures were missing and gaps on bookshelves where books had been removed. There was also no computer, typewriter, or other office equipment present except for a phone. These were probably items Brown had placed into storage while away. No sense tempting the guests.

Cole picked up the phone, but found the line dead. Brown had probably turned off the service.

Even though a forced entry on the second floor was unlikely, Cole checked the windows and doors leading out to the deck. He found them undisturbed, and moved to the master bedroom.

The master was large, messy, and disappointing. Cole had hoped to learn whether Smith left voluntarily by seeing if his clothes and toiletries were missing, but it was obvious the owner had left a huge wardrobe behind. The large master closet and bathroom were crowded with many more clothes and toiletries than a temporary house sitter would have brought. Cole had no way of knowing what belonged to Brown and what, if anything, belonged to Smith, so he couldn’t tell if any of Smith’s things were missing. There were even a few women’s clothes, but these could as easily belong to a girlfriend of Brown’s as Dru Rayne.

Cole found only one item he knew belonged to Smith. A battered metal file box was on the floor beside the bed. It contained receipts, invoices, and billing statements pertaining to the sandwich shop, a pink slip for a 2002 Tercel, insurance policies, and the other mundane paperwork of day-to-day life. Nothing that couldn’t be left behind for a couple of weeks, and nothing anyone would steal.