86 _ Naked Murder

He nodded. If that was how she wanted it, to put up a facade in front of others and act like they didn't mean a lot to each other, he'd play along.

But not for long.

"Proceed." He said to Jenkins who led them to a bedroom door.

Stepping inside, the scent of blood hit him like hard like a kick in the gut. The room was a shrine to normalcy – floral wallpaper, a half-finished knitting project on a rocking chair, and a framed photo of a smiling mother and daughter on the nightstand. But none of it could mask the monstrosity of tableau on the bed.

Brenda Marie Beasley lay sprawled on the floral sheets, naked. Rhett eyes squinted at that and confusion warred within him.

Why was she without any clothes on?

"Did the killer kill her naked?" He asked.

Jenkins replied with an unsure tone. "Seems so, sir."

"Was it before or after he killed her?" He stroked his beard.