Yellow police tape cordoned off the front of the house. Brady bypassed it by ducking beneath, but he paused before going inside. When he looked back over his shoulder, Cole knew what he was waiting for. It didn’t make him feel any better.
“I want you to walk me through everything that happened last night,” Brady said when Cole came up the stairs of the porch. “What time did you get here?”
“Just after midnight.” He came to a stop next to Brady, but his gaze was pulled by the broken locks on the door. He frowned. “Did you guys have to bust open to get in last night?”
Brady followed his line of sight. “No, it was like that when we arrived. Why?”
Cole crouched down to peer at the mechanism more closely. The plate was a dull copper, the wood splintered where someone had forced the door open. Chemicals had been sprayed over the metal, probably to gather whatever physical evidence remained, and there was a little bit of putty left where someone had made an impression.