As Detective Bowers approached the address he had written in his note book, he couldn’t help noticing how remote the house was. Off a gravel road, tucked away under massive fir trees that were bowed from the chronic Westerly winds that blew off of the ocean, the house looked to be brandnew. No plantings yet around the sides, no grass planted, and a pile of scrap lumber off to the left. The garage was separate from the house but matched the house in style and paint scheme.
“It must of took a pretty coin to build this place.” he thought. The yellow tape stretched out in front of the porch. A three story classic house with a covered porch that went completely around 3 of the sides. There was a new greenhouse off to the right with new plantings just starting to rise, and just next to it a small deck with a barbique.
Detective Bowers leaned under the yellow tape and walked into the foyer.