He ran his hand across the clothes on the rack, enjoying the mess he made as he pushed all the shirts into a big bunch at one end. He turned to another rack, intent on making another mess, but he stopped when his fingers brushed against something soft. His attention was pulled to something in the middle of the bunch and he took it off the rack to look at it; a pair of red feety pajamas, with a zipper that went all the way up to the neckline.
Gravel crunched under the wheels of the Ford Explorer as it pulled into the driveway. The headlights cut through the darkness and washed the house in dull light as it turned around the side of the house.
Timothy Meyers groaned as his alarm went off; he hated getting up early to go to school. He turned over and got out of bed, yawning loudly before he padded down the hallway into the bathroom.
“Vera, get away from the window vnuchka!” Vera sighed and turned her gaze from the window to find her grandmother gawking at her in horror. The old woman hurried forward and snatched at the curtains, nearly tearing them down in her haste to close them. She turned to the girl slowly. “You must never let in the night,” she whispered hoarsely, sliding down into the seat of her favorite leather armchair. Vera frowned.
The acrid smell of disinfectant burned Detective Morgan's nose as he entered the morgue, pushing through the swinging doors quickly. He approached the medical examiner, a rather plain-faced blonde in her mid-thirties, who was still hunched over the body with her back to him. She heard his footsteps on the floor and did a half turn to greet him. Her nametag said Pauline.