<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/8/8a/TimRoth.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Detective-Liutenant Michael Holiday<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>237 Pacific Way - Outside, in front of house.<br/><br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Monday, May 4th, around 7:50<br/><br/><strong>Doing:</strong>Looking at garage, looking at front door, meeting Dr. Gander outside<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Wearing a charcoal suit over a black sweater</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://i1289.photobucket.com/albums/b502/ehlamjanx/Mobile%20Uploads/Tim-Roth-_9-1024x760_zpsa4vq5jl0.jpg)</div></div><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Gander.  Mentions Maxon, Locke and Hobbes<br/><hr/>Holiday stepped outside after suggesting to Maxon to call in a credit card tracer with whatever account information he could find.  The process was simple, every detective knew how to call them in.  If one of the missing cards was being used, the analysts would report back a tracer and log the location and transaction of each use.<br/><br/>He walked up to the closed garage door.  A tug on the handle, turning it left and right yielded little movement.<em>Locked. </em>So many houses had garage door openers installed that served to secure the door.  He 'hmmmmed' about the older style door lock that took a key to open.  He looked over the weeds, the spider webs and made his conclusion that the door was not opened recently.<br/><br/>Hearing Hobbes make her inquiry, he was satisfied to turn his attention back towards the kitchen and waited just outside the front door.  As he did, he again played out a cinematic replay of what might have happened.  His eyes traced the moment.    He continued with a more careful inspection of the doorway, threshold and jamb.   The front door was ajar upon arrival, he looked over the presumed exit way carefully as he heard Dr. Gander getting ready to remove their victim.<br/><br/>He met up with the Doctor and regarded her with an affirming nod.  His eyes met hers with an open, expecting exptession, hungry for information.<strong>"Late night...neck trauma..."</strong>he started, repeating what he had overheard.<strong>"Anything else,?"</strong>he pressed.  His expression was grim and serious as he hoped to hear more details from the ME.  He knew well that this would be preliminary,  but he could use any substantive clues he could get right now.