Caldwell Avenue, Thursday, August 5, 9:01 a.m.
Sarah Riley perched on her worn sofa, her hands twisted with worry, her back ramrod straight.
Jess and Harper had arrived at her town house half an hour ago, but since Sarah was at home alone with two children, an eight-month-old and a fifteen-month-old, she’d had to get the babies situated before she could talk. During that time Jess had studied the framed photos around the living room. She’d also come to realize several things about Sarah. Her home, though not exactly filled with top-of-the-line furnishings, was absolutely spotless. Even with two babies there was not a speck of visible dust or a smudge anywhere to be found.
“I appreciate you making time for us,” Jess said. “Your interview was the last one on my list of close friends and family members.” She gave her a broad smile. “I’m so glad you have a few minutes now.”
Sarah nodded, the move stiff. “With taking care of little Gary and the girls and helping Larry with the memorial arrangements… it’s been hard. But Gabrielle’s mother is here now and she’s caring for Gary at her house.”
The memorial service was at five today. Jess intended to be there. “Lieutenant Grayson is fortunate to have a good friend like you.”
A brief smile touched Sarah’s lips. “I’ve scheduled professional cleaners to get started on the cleanup at Larry’s house since the scene was released.” She diverted her gaze from Jess’s. “Jack and I thought it was the least we could do. Someone who knows the family should be there overseeing.”
Sarah Riley had wide gray eyes and dark hair. She wasn’t as big as a minute and hardly seemed old enough to be a nurse and a mother twice over. She was also very nervous. Maintaining eye contact was a problem for her. She wrung her hands repeatedly. Smoothed the skirt of her dress every time she seemed to realize she was wringing her hands. A woman married to a cop, a detective at that, should know the drill when it came to times like this.
“Your husband works all the time,” Jess empathized. “It’s a miracle you have a minute to yourself.” She glanced at the younger woman’s nicely manicured nails. Her hair was styled. Makeup perfect. And the sundress she wore fit well, showed off her small curves, and was really quite flattering.
Sarah stretched her lips into a smile that was as fake as any Jess had seen. “Jack likes me to have a spa day every other week. He says I deserve to look and feel nice. It makes him happy, too. He’s always looking out for me, making sure the children and I have everything we need.”
“You have a thoughtful husband. He works hard to take care of his family.”
Sarah nodded, but she looked away again, stared at her hands. Maybe not such a nice husband, Jess decided.
“I imagine with him gone so much,” Jess said, fishing, “that you have to take care of all the shopping and oversee the maintenance around here as well.”
“That’s my job. It wouldn’t be right for him to work all those hours and then come home to more work.” She shook her head adamantly. “He gives me his lists and I take care of it.”
Jess thought as much. Time to move on. Making Sarah Riley suspicious wasn’t on today’s agenda. “You and Gabrielle were close friends?”
“Very close friends,” Sarah asserted. “We started out working together and the next thing we knew we were having babies together.” She blinked at tears that looked genuine. “I can’t believe she’s gone. Losing her has left a huge hole in my world.”
“I understand,” Jess said gently. “You and your husband had lunch with the Graysons on Sunday, is that right?”
Sarah nodded. “We did that a couple of times a month. Sometimes we would host the cookout. Other times they would.”
“Did you hear from Gabrielle that night?”
Sarah moved her head side to side in a no, then abruptly stopped. “I take that back. I called her a couple of times. At lunch we talked about taking a vacation together next spring. I couldn’t remember the dates she mentioned so I gave her a call. Two times.”
“Have you taken a vacation together before?”
“Several times. We enjoy—enjoyed—a lot of the same leisure activities. We both loved the beach and finding restaurants we’ve never been to before. And with the children, we usually kept it simple.”
“Were you aware of any problems between Gabrielle and her husband?”
Sarah’s jaw dropped as if she found the question shocking. “No way. Wherever you got that idea, it is completely untrue. Those two were crazy in love. They couldn’t have had any big issues. I would’ve known. For sure.”
Jess cleared her throat. “I hate to be a bother, but may I have a glass of water?”
Sarah blinked, startled by the unexpected change in topic. “Sure.”
She stood, the move slow and stiff as if she were sore. She walked to the kitchen and Jess went right behind her. Sarah pretended not to pay attention to her following but Jess spotted her having a look from the corner of her eye. She really was quite nervous and visibly stiff. Had she hurt her back lifting and running after not two but three kids?
Like the living room, the kitchen sparkled. Jess was reasonably sure she’d never encountered a kitchen this clean. Not one where two kids lived anyway. She watched as Sarah reached into a cupboard and retrieved a glass. The glasses in the cupboard were stored in perfect rows. OCD for sure.
Sarah filled the glass from the tap. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Jess sipped it slowly, using the time to note all she could about the way this couple lived. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you.”
“Five years.” Sarah looked around the room. “We bought this town house when Jack was promoted to detective.”
Jess gifted her with a smile. “What a celebration that must have been. A promotion and a new home, too.”
This time the woman’s smile looked real. “It was, yes.”
Jess set her glass on the counter. “Thank you so much, Sarah.”
Sarah immediately picked up the glass, emptied the remainder of the water, and placed it in the dishwasher. Then she rinsed the sink.
This time Jess led the way to the living room, but she didn’t sit down.
Taking that cue, Harper joined Jess near the door.
“One last question, Sarah.”
“Anything,” Sarah said, her voice almost giddy. “Ask me anything, Chief Harris.”
“Were you aware of Gabrielle taking any drugs? Oxy-Contin, for example?”
The woman’s jaw dropped a second time. “Where in the world are you getting these hateful ideas? Gabrielle Grayson would hardly take an antibiotic much less something like that!”
“There was a large amount found in her tox screen, Sarah. The facts don’t lie,” Jess challenged.
“There has to be a mistake.” Her arms went over her chest and her head was moving side to side in firm denial. She almost looked angry. “That’s impossible.”
“The drug came from somewhere. Do you know if anyone in her family or any of her friends used that drug? Maybe someone gave it to her because she hurt herself somehow. Maybe she picked up the baby the wrong way and hurt her back?”
“I don’t know anyone who uses that drug and neither did Gabrielle.”
Oh yes. The lady was angry. “Not since your days working at New Life, right?”
“I have to feed the baby now.” Sarah resurrected that fake smile and all other emotion vanished from her face. “Thank you for all you’re doing to find Gabrielle’s killer. We won’t sleep at night until this horrible tragedy is put to rest.”
Jess handed her a card. “I appreciate your taking the time to talk to us, Sarah. If you think of anything else you believe might help, please let us know. We’re closing in on a suspect and we want to nail him but good.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s great. I’ve been asking Jack and watching the news, but I hadn’t heard you were so close to solving the case.”
Jess nodded. “It’s only a matter of time before we take him down.”
Sarah stared at her, her disbelief as evident as if it had been written across her forehead in blood like the foul words that had been written on Gabrielle’s. Then she seemed to jerk back to the here and now and opened the door to usher them out.
Jess waited until they were in Harper’s SUV before saying a word.
Harper beat her to the punch. “Now that was a Stepford wife if I’ve ever seen one.” He shook his head. “As hard as she tried to cover it up, it showed on her face. She alternated between being scared to death of giving the wrong answer and spewing what she’d been brainwashed to say.”
“Did you notice that nice save when I asked her if she spoke to Gabrielle that night?” Jess had seen the realization in her expression when the idea that phone records had likely been subpoenaed hit her. She’d recovered like a pro. “She specified that she had spoken to her two times after eight o’clock. God, we need those phone records.” Jess hated that these things sometimes took so long.
“I saw how she was moving. Like she was in pain. You think that bastard beats her?”
“I think that’s a very strong possibility.” Whatever was going on in their relationship, it was off balance. There was something deeply wrong in that house. Jess could feel it.
“But that doesn’t make him a killer,” Harper noted with audible regret.
“That’s true, Sergeant.” A man who would abuse his wife and children was the lowest of the low in Jess’s opinion. She wanted to shake the woman and demand why she would put up with such treatment. But she knew the answer without asking. Most often a twisted bond formed between the abused and the abuser. That kind of narcissistic bond was difficult to sever. Sometimes it ended only when one or the other was dead… until death do us part.
“But,” Jess told her detective, a scenario forming quickly, “it does open up a whole new avenue of motive that may have set the stage for murder.”
“How do you mean?”
“With a bond like that, anything that threatens it would be swiftly stamped out.”
She didn’t know the ins and outs of where this was going just yet, but Jack and Sarah Riley had just moved to the top of Jess’s suspect list.
“Let’s see if we can find anything in police reports or medical records that prove Jack Riley is abusing his wife.” That was another avenue they could explore with Sarah’s former coworkers—the same coworkers they were already questioning about Gabrielle.
“Yes, ma’am. But police reports are doubtful. He wouldn’t have made sergeant if anything like that was on his record.”
“Unless,” Jess tossed back, “she claimed some unknown perp did the beating.”
Abusers and victims that deeply entrenched in their bond knew how to work the system.
“Good point.” Harper pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and checked the screen. “Dispatch.” He glanced at Jess before answering with, “Harper.”
Holy crap… what now?
Harper listened for five, six, seven seconds. “Chief Harris and I are en route.”
As he tucked his phone away, Jess asked the question she feared the most. “Is it Devon?”
“No. Two adult vics. One male, one female.”
If they had gotten the call, there was some sort of readily distinguishable similarity or connection to the Grayson case.
Just when Jess thought she knew where this investigation was headed, someone had to go and toss another body or two into the mix.
Norwood, 11:38 a.m.
“Both victims were dead prior to the decapitations and the stabbings.” Sergeant Harper indicated the blood, skull fragments, and brain matter sprayed across the dingy wall beyond where the man and woman lay supine on the floor. “Ligature marks on the wrists indicate they were restrained at some point.”
Jess stepped closer to the couple. “It appears they were forced onto their knees, facing the wall, and took a bullet to the back of the head. At some point after that they were dragged over here”—she gestured to where they lay—“cut loose from their restraints, positioned with their arms spread wide and their legs together, just as Gabrielle Grayson was posed.”
“Only this time”—Harper crouched down and indicated the area of the neck where the heads were once attached—“the heads were sawed off with a bit more precision.”
“Or maybe just a sharper saw,” Jess suggested. Her stomach spasmed in revulsion.
“Definitely sharper,” Harper agreed. “I counted twelve stab wounds on each vic. The pattern is random.”
Twelve, not ten like Gabrielle. “It’s a miracle they were found before they dissolved into DNA soup.” Christ what a mess. It was all she could do to take a breath.
The house had gone into foreclosure and was now owned by the bank. The windows were broken and the paint inside and out was peeling. The yard was overgrown. Like several others in the area, the house had sat abandoned and neglected for months.
But not today. The smell of disuse and emptiness had been replaced by the pungent odor of human decomposition. There was no electricity and no air-conditioning. Even the evidence techs had had to take a break from the smell. The first officers on the scene hadn’t come back inside since discovering the bodies.
“First officer on the scene”—Harper pushed to his feet and checked the notes he’d made on his phone—“said the old man who lives next door—the one who called it in, Pete Hall—identified the vics as Angel Flores and Javier Villa. He says they showed up here about two months ago and have been squatting in the house since. He’s pretty sure they were selling drugs. Not that he bought any,” Harper pointed out with a skeptical glance at Jess, “but he feels confident that’s how they made a living. He hadn’t seen or heard from either of them since last weekend and he thought they’d cut out without saying good-bye until he noticed the smell coming from the house.”
Jess was pretty sure the old man had been a regular customer and that was how he knew the names of these victims. “Let’s hope they’ve been printed somewhere or dental records exist, because I don’t imagine even the next of kin could identify them now.” A good portion of both victims’ faces were missing. “Maybe the ME will find some identifying marks other than the tattoos.”
Leonardo Lopez had insisted he did not believe his people were involved with Gabrielle Grayson’s murder. Yet here they were with a similar scene on their hands and both vics were sporting the typical MS-13 tatts. Various forms of the number thirteen, the name Mara Salvatrucha, teardrops, and one Jess hadn’t seen before, 666. Just lovely.
“Have Officer Cook run the names the neighbor gave us and see what he comes up with,” Jess told Harper.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She crouched down to get a closer look at the bodies. She shielded her nose with a gloved hand, for all the good it would do. “These two have been dead at least a couple of days.” In this heat decomp had accelerated. She studied the damaged tissue around the neck where the head had been severed from the body. First the woman’s, then the man’s. “The beheading was done considerably later. A day at least.”
“Stab wounds, too,” Harper said.
The decapitation and stabbings had resulted in little blood loss. The victims’ hearts had ceased to pump blood well before those final acts. Jess considered the one word, RAGE, written in blood on the wall at the other end of the small room. Their perp had avoided the blood, bone, and tissue pattern that resulted from the shootings. Why would he care and where were all the other written comments that had been present at Gabrielle’s murder scene?
“Another element similar to the Grayson murder,” Harper suggested, noting her attention on the wall.
Jess pushed to her feet. “Except this time there’s just the one word. And the decapitations are much cleaner.”
“Do we have some sort of fledgling ritual killer on our hands?”
Jess wasn’t ready to go there. “I don’t think so. The victims are far too different.” It wasn’t impossible but it was far less probable. She surveyed the small space. Four rooms. All of which were empty save for a mattress and scattered clothes and rotting food.
“How did the perp enter the premises, Sergeant?”
She and Harper had come in through the front door. There had been no sign of forced entry there. Of course there was always the chance the victims had known the killer and allowed him inside.
“The back door. Follow me.”
Harper had been busy while she studied the victims. She trailed him through each of the rooms. There wasn’t much of a hall. Mostly a small spot where the four rooms converged. The one with the tiny closet she assumed was a bedroom. A tiny bathroom, the living room—where the bodies had been found—and then a kitchen. In the kitchen, the back door had been kicked in. Muddy shoe prints suggested that the breaking and entering had occurred closer to Monday than today. It hadn’t rained since early Sunday night and there sure as hell wasn’t a damp rut around here to be found.
“Two distinct sets of shoe prints,” Harper indicated the imprints on the worn linoleum. He positioned his right foot alongside one of the muddy outlines. “One set’s about a size ten, the other smaller, a nine maybe.”
“Gabrielle’s killer was careful not to leave behind that kind of evidence.” She and Harper exchanged a knowing look.
At the counter Jess had a look at the papers lying there. Documents that announced the bank had repossessed the property. Neatly printed property detail sheets for the Realtors who came through. No business cards though. Typically when a Realtor showed a house, they left their business card for the listing Realtor. Certainly the house hadn’t been shown since the couple in the other room took up residence.
Jess picked up a copy of the property detail sheet to take with her and roaches scurried across the counter.
Shouting at the front door drew her attention in that direction.
“Sounds like the ME’s here,” Harper said.
Dr. Sylvia Baron’s voice boomed again. “What’re you waiting for? The second coming? We have an oven in here. The sooner you’ve done your job, the sooner we can salvage these victims before they ooze through the cracks in the floor.”
Apparently the evidence techs had loitered outside a little too long to suit her. This was the kind of scene no one relished dissecting.
“We certainly don’t want to keep her waiting.” She and Jess had reached a kind of wary alliance. After last night’s bonding moment they might even be friends… sort of. Be that as it may, the law was the law. Dr. Baron might run things at the coroner’s office and, as the ME of record on a case, she had jurisdiction over the body, but she didn’t run Jess’s crime scenes.
“Good morning, Dr. Baron.” Jess tacked on a smile in spite of the urge to wrinkle her face and gag as the full impact of the smell hit her all over again. The smell was so much less strong in the kitchen.
“Chief Harris.” Baron surveyed the bodies. “Do we have a copycat or is this the same perp from Gabrielle Grayson’s murder?”
“Considering these victims were executed gang-style and have been dead for more than forty-eight hours, I highly doubt it. If you’ll notice, the decapitations and stabbings occurred far more recently. I think someone wants us to believe it’s related, but my money’s on no connection whatsoever.”
Baron turned up her gloved hands. “Well, excuse the hell out of me. I don’t know why I bothered to show up since you have all the answers.”
Jess laughed. “But you’re the expert. I’m only speculating.” She gestured to the bodies. “They’re all yours.”
“Thank you, Chief. And by the way,” she said, prompting Jess to lean closer. “Not human. Animal. Feline to be exact.”
Jess gave her a nod. “Thanks. I owe you one.” The spots on her deck were the same type of blood used to leave that message on the Grayson photo. The only question was, were the blood droplets from the night the message was left inside her apartment or was this from a new message? One her landlord had covered up?
Why would he do that? It was time she had a long talk with Mr. Louis.
When Baron started ordering the evidence techs around again, Jess snagged Harper’s arm and ushered him outside. “Get hold of Hector Debarros for me. Tell him I need to speak to Leonardo Lopez.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
An assistant from the coroner’s office hurried from the van to the house with trace sheets and body bags. Good luck with that, Jess thought.
News crews waited at the corner of the block.
Jess considered the location. There wasn’t much she didn’t know about this city. Not so far from here was historic Norwood, where the homes were architecturally pleasing and the residents had the means to keep them that way. The residents over there, her gaze followed the street in that direction, pretended their neighbors only a few blocks away weren’t murdered on a regular basis and that crime wasn’t the only game around. If forced to drive along these blocks they overlooked the dilapidated homes, defunct businesses, and abandoned structures decorated with graffiti. As long as it wasn’t on their block, it wasn’t real.
Her lungs still cramping from the odor inside, Jess turned to the house once more. Whoever attempted to make this resemble the Grayson murder had failed miserably.
Jess blinked when Captain Ted Allen rounded the west corner of the house. He’d been busy interviewing neighbors when she arrived. Now he was headed her way. She braced for an unpleasant encounter.
Allen was a little older than her, a year or two maybe. He had the tall, lean build of a runner. His dark hair was close cropped in a military style. He wore dark glasses, which concealed the color of his eyes. But there was no mistaking the set of his jaw. He was in no way glad to see her.
“Chief Harris.”
“Captain Allen.”
“What we have here,” he said, getting to the point, “is a gang hit on interlopers. The two vics you got inside were likely trying to start up their own little business in the wrong territory. Whoever showed up and mutilated the bodies afterward has nothing to do with that.”
He started to turn away. “How can you be so sure, Captain?”
“Because”—he turned back to her, impatience and dislike emanating from his every pore—“I have informants who report this stuff to me. Those two were taken out late Monday by two MS-13 members in Salvadore Lopez’s clique. They were protecting their territory. The vics were shot once in the back of the head. That’s what MS-13 does to interlopers.”
Jess crossed her arms over her chest. “And you didn’t report this double homicide? I know you and your joint task force with the bureau and the DEA have this grand plan, but I just don’t get the way you sit back and let these guys get away with murder.”
Allen laughed. “Frankly, I could care less what you get or don’t get.”
“Apparently you’re not alone on that one, Captain, considering someone has been sending me some rather firm messages.”
He backed off, held his hands up stop-sign fashion. “Work the gang world long enough, Chief, and you’ll learn to be grateful for two things. One is to bide your time and choose your battles so you take down the biggest fish. The other is to appreciate when they take each other off the street.” He gestured to the rundown house. “That’s two less dope dealers in there. Color me thankful to whoever took ’em out.”
Jess gave a little chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. You have to be there to appreciate that sentiment. Kind of like an inside joke.”
“Just telling it the way it is, Chief.”
“Who else knew this hit had taken place?”
“My informant and the lead members of my task force. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“There’s no way Lieutenant Grayson could have known?”
Allen stepped closer to her. Jess stood her ground. Maybe he thought the move was intimidating. He’d have to bring a better game than that.
“I don’t like the way you do things, Harris,” he said for her ears only. “Course that doesn’t mean a thing since you and Chief Burnett are such good friends. But, be advised, you don’t have a lot of friends in the department as it is. You start accusing good men like Grayson of murdering his own wife, you’re going to lose what few you do have.”
Jess studied his face, the part she could see around the glasses. His body language told her he liked playing the role of tough guy. Probably got off on it. Either way, Jess wasn’t going to apologize for doing her job. “And what about Riley? Is he one of the good guys?”
“Riley is a damned good cop,” Allen all but growled. “He’s just a little gung ho. Typical adrenaline junkie. Gets a little too proactive. He’s one of those who would run in before getting the go signal. But that doesn’t make him a bad cop. Anything else?”
“I appreciate your observations, Captain. I’m certain this won’t be the last time we’ll run into each other in the line of duty.”
“I can always hope.”
He walked away, every arrogant stride making her angrier. But there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about those who decided she’d gotten her position because she was friends with Burnett. There was also nothing she could do about the kind of attitude that would find murder acceptable under any circumstances.
Jess stilled. And yet she dreamed of killing Eric Spears with her own two hands almost every day. Maybe she was no better than Allen. Did it matter that the two vics inside this rundown house were nowhere near the kind of monsters Spears was? Was murder ever justified?
The roar of an engine and squealing tires drew her attention to the street. The SUV barreling up the block she recognized as belonging to Lieutenant Grayson. The vehicle rocked to a stop at the curb. He climbed from behind the wheel and his partner emerged from the passenger side.
Things were about to get interesting.
Harper appeared at her side. They exchanged a look and Jess had to admit she was glad he was here.
“You gonna do this?” Harper asked. “Or am I?”
“I think I can handle it, Sergeant.” She focused on the two men striding her way. “But I appreciate the backup.”
The man’s wife had been murdered; for that reason Jess disliked the need to be firm. But finding Gabrielle’s murderer was far more important than appeasing him.
“Lieutenant,” she said, holding up both hands, “you cannot be here.” She glanced at his partner, who had no excuse for not heading off this situation. “You either, Sergeant Riley. Now take your partner home and cool off.”
“I just want to know if the same person who murdered my wife did this,” Grayson demanded. “That’s all I want. Just tell me the truth, Chief.”
“I can’t answer that question, Lieutenant.” He knew better than to ask such a thing. She’d barely begun her investigation into these murders. The scene was still being documented and analyzed for evidence. His ex-wife was in there doing her thing.
“You’ve been talking to her coworkers,” Grayson said. “Looking into our personal lives as if you think Gabrielle did something to deserve this.” His eyes pleaded with Jess. “I need to know who did this.”
“What the hell?” Riley roared.
Jess followed his gaze and found Dr. Baron at the door instructing her assistant on the removal of the bodies.
Riley stormed right up to the front door. Thank God he had the good sense not to charge into the scene. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Baron didn’t spare him so much as a glance. “Since you’re not visually impaired, Sergeant, I’m certain the answer to that question is glaringly clear. Do not get in my way.”
“You’re the reason we don’t have any answers about Gabrielle!” Riley stabbed a finger at Sylvia. “You want this to drag out and hurt him.”
Grayson joined the shouting match.
“Sergeant Harper.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’d like you to escort those two gentlemen outside the perimeter of my crime scene.”
“My pleasure, Chief.”
“If either one resists, you are to arrest one or both.”
As Harper closed in on the two irate detectives, Grayson said something to Riley and the younger man stormed off. He didn’t dodge the opportunity to send a drop-dead look in Jess’s direction. She held that threatening glare until he’d shut himself up in his partner’s SUV. If half of what she suspected proved true, he was going to be falling off that high horse of his.
Grayson was next. Harper was right behind him. Rather than heading to his SUV, Grayson headed straight for Jess.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Harris. You’re letting that woman influence your assessment of this case and I swear to God I will take legal action.” He struggled to regain his composure. His face was beet red, his nostrils flaring. “My wife scarcely took an aspirin much less a pain killer. If she”—he sent a furious glare in the ME’s direction—“screwed up that toxicology…” He shook his head, didn’t finish the statement.
Enough was enough. “Lieutenant, those two homicide victims are not related to you or to Dr. Baron. There is no ethical reason she should be removed from this particular investigation.” He started to argue, but Jess cut him off. “She’s here to do her job and these victims deserve the best we have to offer, the same as your wife does. Dr. Leeds handled her case personally. You just go ahead and file whatever complaints you feel inclined to file. What you think of me or your ex-wife or what she thinks about you is irrelevant to me. I will conduct this investigation to the best of my ability.”
The fury started to recede. Agony haunted his eyes. “How am I supposed to trust what you say, Chief Harris? Monday afternoon both you and Chief Burnett promised to keep me up to speed on my wife’s case and just this morning I had to hear that the boy next door had gone missing and that you believe his disappearance is related to my wife’s murder!”
“We’re still talking to several of your neighbors, Lieutenant,” Jess hedged. “The fact that he’s gone missing right next door to where the murder occurred may or may not be connected.” She wasn’t ready for his partner to know that yet and if Grayson knew it, so would Riley.
Grayson dropped his head. “God almighty, the nightmare never ends.”
“Was Devon Chambers a regular visitor at your home?” She’d wanted to ask him about that.
“My wife said he watched her and the baby in the backyard. When she’d wave he’d move away from the window. To my knowledge he never came over.”
“Sir, you stated that you and Gabrielle didn’t have any problems.”
Anger tightened his features again. “I told you the truth.”
“In the interviews I’ve conducted, I learned that Gabrielle called a friend the day before she died and said she needed to talk about a problem that involved you.” Jess braced for his retaliation.
The agony was back. His shoulders fell as if he no longer possessed the strength to hold them straight. “If you have anything else to say to me, call my attorney.”
He returned to his vehicle and drove away. His departure lacked the fanfare of squealing tires and the roaring engine of his arrival. Devastation was leading Grayson. His partner didn’t have that kind of excuse.
“Methinks he doth protest too much,” she murmured.
Baron joined Jess on the overgrown lawn. “I’d estimate the victims have been dead approximately three days. The stab wounds and beheading were carried out postmortem, as you know. Maybe twenty-four to thirty-six hours later. Determining that timeline is somewhat more difficult outside a lab setting.”
Time of death backed up what Allen had heard via his informants. “Thank you, Dr. Baron.”
“I can give you more tomorrow or the next day but that’s the way it looks.”
“Just so you know, Grayson is threatening to take action against us both.” Jess wasn’t really worried about his threats. That was Burnett’s problem. But, somewhere deep inside, the idea of how many enemies she had made here already nagged at her. And one of those enemies wanted her dead.
“I heard.”
“I understand there’s bad blood between you and the lieutenant,” Jess ventured, “but what’s the deal with you and Riley?”
“I never liked him.” She pursed her lips and seemed to think a moment before she continued. “He was assigned to work with Larry just over five years ago and from day one I had a bad feeling about him. I don’t trust him.”
“I’ve found no reason he’d want Gabrielle dead,” Jess said bluntly. “On the other hand, he seems to have oodles of simmering motives where you’re concerned. If you turn up murdered, I’ll consider him first.”
“That would be a wise first step.” She sighed. “He strikes me as the kind of man who would do anything to get ahead. Larry doesn’t see it because his own ego blinds him. Riley pretends to worship him. What man doesn’t want his very own fan club following him around, even if it does have only one member?”
“I think the lieutenant has a little more than one fan,” Jess countered.
“But Riley is different. He treats Larry as if he’s a god. Even his wife treats him as if he’s some big hero.”
“Was there ever a problem between you and Sarah Riley?”
“We hardly knew each other. They didn’t come around when Larry was married to me. It wasn’t until the last few months of our marriage that he began to drop by their home. I was too busy to notice. The next thing I knew they’d found him a new wife. One who fit into their intimate little circle.”
“You believe Riley and his wife purposely tried to break up your marriage?”
Baron frowned. “Possibly. The part that bothers me most is that Larry knew who I was when we married. We dated for two years. Suddenly, that final year of our marriage, it was as if I was a stranger to him. He saw all the things he had once admired in me as shortcomings. Then he found the perfect wife.”
“She admired and adored him the same as his partner and his wife, is that right?” That old familiar anticipation started pumping.
“One who couldn’t wait to bear his children.” Baron looked away. “Gabrielle was everything I wasn’t. Patient, doting, submissive. She made him feel like the king of the world.” She laughed. “He actually said that to me. I wish I could hate her for it, but I never could. Not really. And God knows I tried.”
“That’s the difference between you and the person who murdered Gabrielle.” Jess met Baron’s expectant gaze. “Gabrielle’s killer hated her. Hated her so completely that even after she was dead, it wasn’t enough.”