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Chapter 16

Double Suicide

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Detective Rebecca Watson of the Eugene Falls Police Department drove onto the long, circular driveway of 46 Bellevue Lane. 

She pulled up behind several black-and-whites and a firetruck. An ambulance, with the flashing lights angled across the massive lawn.

A small crowd of onlookers gawked from the sidewalk. Death always had a way of attracting attention. 

Several officers were cordoning off the open garage door with yellow tape. Watson exited her unmarked cruiser and strode quickly to the portico. She gave her name and badge number to the patrolman and he jotted her information into a log.

Expensive artwork and luxurious furniture filled the interior of the house as she made her way toward the garage. 

The medical examiner, Ray Soriano, stood outside the driver side door of the Lexus.

“What do we have?” Watson asked.

Ray peered over the window. “Looks like a double suicide. The tailpipe was stuffed with a towel and the motor was still running when I arrived. I had one of the firemen shut the engine off and open the garage door.”

Watson pointed at the Lexus. “Did you get pictures before you opened the door?”

“We took plenty,” a patrolman said from behind.

Watson turned to him. The nametag identified him as Officer Hudson. “Who made the nine-one-one call?”

He pulled a small pad from his shirt pocket. “The daughter of the decedents. A Mrs. Donna Biggens, age thirty-one, came by to check on her parents after they failed to answer her phone calls.”

Watson gestured for him to continue.

“Mrs. Biggens appeared to be hysterical when I arrived. Said she discovered her parents in the car. She gave me the suicide note they’d left behind on the dashboard.”

Hudson handed over a plastic evidence bag with a note inside. Life isn’t worth living any longer. Goodbye cruel world.

“Why do you say, appeared hysterical?”

He rested his elbows on his web belt. “I know people act differently in certain circumstances.”

“But?”

“I don’t know. Like it was all a show. As if she was trying to convince me.”

“Convince you that she had nothing to do with their deaths?”

“Maybe. But I’m not sure. All I can say is the woman seemed off. I apologize if I’m out of line.”

“No need to apologize for your gut instincts. More time than not they’re right.”

He sighed. “I appreciate that. I just feel awful thinking of her that way.”

“No worries. Did the daughter mention anything about the parents being depressed or ill? Any financial problems?”

Hudson flipped a page in his notepad. “The mother was recently diagnosed as Bipolar and the father suffered from dementia.”

Watson nodded. This certainly appeared like a double suicide, but it might have been staged. After twelve years on the job, she’d seen her share of cases that started out as a suicide, but the evidence proved otherwise. She looked up at Hudson. “Is Mrs. Biggens still on site?”

“She was on the back terrace with the paramedics.”

“Thanks.”

Watson walked through the kitchen to the dining room. A sliding glass door leading outside was open. She stepped through and entered the terrace. Two paramedics and several firemen gawked at a petite woman dressed to the nines—her long chestnut hair pulled into a tight bun. Her red tube dress left little to the imagination. The woman was gabbing it up with the standing testosterone.

Definitely not signs of a person mourning the loss of her parents. But appearances could be deceiving.

“Are you Mrs. Biggens?”

The woman nodded. “And you are?”

“Detective Watson. And I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” The woman tried to cry, but there weren’t any tears. “My poor parents.”

“Can you answer a few questions?”

“I will try.”

“Why did you decide to visit today?”

“My mom wasn’t answering my phone calls.”

“And you found that to be odd?”

“Of course. My mom and I speak every Sunday, but when she didn’t answer after the third call, I became concerned.”

“What did you do then?”

“Drove over. When I didn’t find them in the house, I came out here to the terrace. Mom likes to unwind from time to time with a drink. But when I still couldn’t find them, I decided to check to see if the car was still here.”

“Your parents only have the one car?”

“Yes. Ever since my dad was diagnosed with dementia three years ago, we sold his BMW.”

“Okay, so you saw the car. What did you do?”

“The engine was idling. Through the windshield I saw my mother behind the wheel, her eyes open but not really looking at anything. My dad was slumped to the side, his head resting on the passenger side window. I thought they were sleeping. Then I started to get lightheaded. I knew then they died from carbon monoxide. That’s when I left and called 9-1-1.”

“And you never touched anything?”

“No. Didn’t have time. I’m lucky to be alive.” She collapsed on a chase lounge behind her. One of the paramedics leaned down to check her vitals, while the other men looked on with concern.

The woman clearly had a flair for the theatrics.

Watson shook her head. Gullible men at her every beck and call. Suckers.

Biggens wouldn’t be winning awards with the detective. However, she unwittingly implicated herself.

Do you know how?

Hint: Suicide note.

Officer Hudson said Donna Biggins found a suicide note on the dashboard of the car. When Detective Watson asked Biggins if she touched anything in the car, she stated she hadn’t because she almost succumbed to the carbon monoxide.

If this were true, then the only way she could get the suicide note is if she wrote it and stated it was on the dashboard.