Drop Dead Sexy(26)

The inside of Randy’s house was warm and inviting, much like his personality. He owned several impressive pieces of art as well as oriental rugs and porcelain. Some of it surprised me since it seemed a little out of a small town pharmacist’s budget. At the thought that Randy might’ve had a darker side, I couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of the thought. Since he never mentioned his family, he most likely had inherited the pieces or the money to buy them.

“Do we have a timeline of Randy’s actions?”

Ralph nodded. “Somewhat. He closed up the pharmacy at six last night like usual. Then he stopped in at The Hitching Post to have dinner, which he does on the nights he handles closing instead of one of the pharmacy techs. Thelma said he left probably between seven and seven forty-five.”

“So we’re looking at anywhere from eight last night to this morning for a time of death?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fabulous,” I muttered. As I started out of dining room, the photographer’s flashbulb momentarily blinded me. “Easy there, Newt,” I said, as I fought the black blobs dancing before my eyes.

“Sorry about that, Olivia.”

“Can I have you come back to the bedroom to photograph the body while I do my investigation?”

“Sure thing.”

Newt and I were almost to the bedroom when I heard Todd call my name from the front door. “Back here,” I called.

He came jogging down the hallway. “Hey. Your mother and Pease said that with Harry and Earl, they had the Peterson and Laughton visitations covered, and I should come here to be with you.”

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my mother and Pease to think my thirty-year-old self was incapable of handling my coroner duties. “Thank you, Todd, but I think I have it under control. And since the GBI will be taking Randy’s body to the crime lab, I won’t need the hearse for transportation.”

Todd held up his hands in surrender. “Got it. You don’t mind if I stay and watch do you?” Curiosity danced in his brown eyes. “I’ve never been part of a murder investigation before.”

I smiled. “Of course, you can stay. I can use your help in a minute when it comes to turning Randy over.”

“What about Ralph?”

With a roll of my eyes, I whispered, “He’s always conveniently down in his back and can’t help lift even a finger.”

Todd chuckled. “Nice.”

As I stepped into the bedroom, a coppery, metallic smell invaded my nostrils. It was one I had grown accustomed to whenever blood loss was involved in the death. I once again did a visual sweep of the room. The expensive TV and computer system remained in place. None of the drawers in the bureau had been disturbed or rifled through. It was certainly not a robbery-motivated attack. Since everything was meticulously in order in the bedroom, I felt it safe to assume there hadn’t been a struggle.

When I walked up to the bed, it hit me how different Randy looked. Sure, he was going to look different considering he was dead, but it was more about how I was used to seeing him. Gone was the crisp, white lab coat he sported over a button-down shirt and tie. In its place was a whole lot of pasty-white flesh. I never would have pegged Randy for someone who slept naked. He seemed more like the pajama type, even in summer.

I reached into my pocket and took out my voice recorder. After clearing my throat, I pressed the button and began speaking. “Today is February Eighth, 2015. Time is ten forty-five am. Victim is a male, Caucasian between sixty and sixty-five years old. Preliminary cause of death appears to be a gunshot wound to the left pectoral at close range. The wound is about an inch to an inch and a quarter in diameter.”

I then turned my attention to reporting on Randy from the head down. After lifting one of Randy’s eyelids, I said, “No signs of petechial hemorrhaging, so he wasn’t choked or strangled before he was shot.” As I examined the rest of his face, I didn’t notice any cuts, scratches or bruising.

I picked up one of his hands and eyed it curiously. “No defensive marks or wounds.” I massaged Randy’s forearm before lifting it. “From the rigidity of the muscles and range of motion in the arm, the victim appears to be in peak rigor mortis.” Rigor Mortis was an easy way for coroners to estimate the time of death. It usually set in two hours after death, and it reached its peak at twelve. By fifteen hours, the muscle fibers began to break down and would loosen up again.

I cut the recorder off and looked at Ralph. “He obviously didn’t put up a fight. From the looks of it, someone just came in and shot him after he’d gone to bed.”

Ralph sighed. “If that’s the case, I guess there are some small mercies in the fact he wasn’t tortured or beat up. Maybe he never even knew what was happening. Just went to sleep and never woke up.”

“Unless he woke up to someone standing over him with a gun, which considering the shot range wouldn’t be surprising,” Todd countered. When Ralph and I both looked at him in surprise, Todd gave us a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I watch a lot of Law and Order.”

“Yeah, well, they do things a little different up in New York City,” Ralph said.

I lifted my gaze momentarily to the ceiling. I could tell the animosity rolling off Ralph toward Todd was about more than just a television show. Todd had grown up north of the Mason Dixon line, so to Ralph, he couldn’t be trusted because he was a Yankee.