“How hard would it be to drive a spike of that width into a stud?” asked Ava. “That doesn’t sound like something I could do with a hammer.”

“It’d take a lot of force,” said Zander. “Probably a larger mallet of some sort and a lot of muscle and swing.”

“A sledgehammer?” Ava suggested. “Or would that be overkill?” She grimaced at her poor choice of words.

“We’ll run some tests to find out,” said Nora grimly. “Someone thought through every aspect of this scene before they got here.”

Premeditated.

Dr. Rutledge removed the mask, studied it, and dropped it into the paper bag that Nora held out. “Never watched those movies,” he commented.

Mason was starting to wonder who had watched them. Maybe he simply didn’t hang around with any horror movie watchers.

“Help me lift him down,” Seth said. Mason and Zander stepped forward and each grabbed a shoulder and upper arm as Seth grabbed hold of the man’s shirtfront. Mason held his breath as they lifted Samuelson off the spikes and laid him on the material Seth had spread out on the floor.

“Rigor is absent,” the medical examiner commented. “You said he was discovered at one? I can still feel warmth in his torso. I’ll say he was killed not long before that, but I’ll run some tests for a more definite time.”

“His socks are filthy with barkdust and dirt,” commented Ava. “The floors of this house are pretty clean for a guy who lives alone . . . at least from what I’ve seen on this floor. It looks like he went outside wearing his socks and actually walked in the dirt.”

“Possibly our killer drew him out of the house?” Mason asked.

“Who here would walk in barkdust in socks?” Ava asked. No one responded. “Right. No one walks in the dirt unless you’re not thinking or don’t have a choice. The kitchen sink and counters are clean. I glanced in the powder room, and it’s very clean. I think he had no choice but to walk in the dirt or he was in a big hurry.”

“Let’s find the dirt,” Mason said.

“Shit. I’ve got a search going on in both yards,” said Nora. “They probably trampled all over the footprints.”

“Not if they did it right,” pointed out Zander.

The medical examiner crouched next to Louis Samuelson. He’d taken a good look at the socks when Ava spoke up and was now palpating the victim’s skull. “He’s got a serious dent on the back of the head,” Seth said. He lifted his gloved hand from the skull and showed the sticky drying blood on his hand. “It cracked his skull. I’ll know more after I x-ray it, but it’s a wide one and would have been seriously debilitating. I assume no baseball bat or the like has turned up?”

“Denny had the same head injury,” Mason pointed out.

“His hands are clean,” observed Seth. “He didn’t touch his head or his neck injury. The blow to the head definitely knocked him out. It might have been enough to kill him.”

“I wonder if he was hit in the yard,” Ava said. “There would be some sort of drag trail. I think we need to talk to the guys searching the backyard.” Nora was already headed toward the back door, and Mason immediately followed.

They stepped through the door onto a small wooden deck with a huge barbecue and two deck chairs. The backyard of the home was enclosed by a high fence. Mason approved, liking the privacy. It wasn’t one of those fences that gave glimpses into the neighbor’s yard if you stood at the right angle. This one was a good foot higher than the standard fence and impossible to see through. Two large bright lights shone from the back of the house, lighting up the entire yard. Again Mason approved, and wondered if they were motion detectors. If anyone tried to sneak close to the house, there was no place to hide from the light.

Three patrol officers were at the far end of the yard, slowly sweeping the grass with their flashlights.

“Good. I told them to start at the far end so they haven’t gotten very far,” Nora said. “Hey, guys!” she yelled. “Hold up a moment. Stay in your positions, please.”

The yard was 90 percent grass. No one had put any effort into fancy landscaping. It was a simple layout. Grass in the center, a wide strip of barkdust along the fences and around the wooden deck. Pulling out his tiny LED flashlight, Mason stepped to the edge of the deck and shone his light on the barkdust around the deck. The deck stood about two feet off the ground. There was no railing, but at the center of the farthest edge, a few wooden steps led to the grass.

“There’s a large flattened area in the barkdust here,” said Mason. “What’s the weather been doing for the last five days?” He knew it’d been cloudy and damp at the coast, but the Willamette Valley weather was always different.

“We haven’t had rain in over a week,” said Ava.

“Things should be dry,” said Nora. “No mud.”

They stepped close and studied the impression from the deck. To Mason it looked about the size of a male torso, as if someone had lain in the dirt.

Samuelson’s shirt had been clean of barkdust. Front and back.

Something or someone else had rested here. Had it been their killer as he waited for Louis?

Footprints dotted the area around the larger impression. Mason walked the edge of the deck, checking the rest of the barkdust area. Nothing jumped out at him.

“Scan this part of the barkdust carefully,” Nora shouted at the cops who were waiting patiently at the end of the yard. “We’re looking for footprints, a sharp weapon, and something solid and large that could be used to hit someone in the head. Keep your eye out for anything that could hold fingerprints.” A chorus of acknowledgments came from the men.