He unclipped a high-powered flashlight from his belt and ran the beam down the seam of the door frame.

“Was your husband doing any renovations before you left?” Bell asked.

“Derek is an assistant manager at Cedar Lane Bank,” I said.

“He doesn’t put in heavy hardware.”

“We need to clear the rest of the house first,” Bell said, heading for the master bedroom door.

He nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, his flashlight sweeping across the unmade king bed and the nightstand drawers dumped upside down.

Clothes had been pulled off the closet hangers and strewn over the carpet like fallen leaves.