I appreciate the opportunity.
Good, Greene said, his tone indicating that he never had a doubt.
He waved her on to follow him as they walked to the porch and up the stairs. Inside, were two agents conversing with the coroner. Chloe did her best to ready herself for the scene and while she thought shed done a pretty good job, she was still shaken when she saw a womans legs sticking out from behind the kitchen island.
So I need you to take a walk around the body, Greene said. Tell me what you seeboth in terms of the body and the surroundings. Walk me through your processing.
Chloe had seen a few dead bodies in the course of her interning; When she lived in Philadelphia, they had not been all that hard to come by. But this was different. This one felt a little too close to homea little too familiar. She stepped behind the kitchen counter and looked down at the scene.
The victim was a woman who looked to be in her thirties. She had been hit in the head with a very solid objectmost likely the toaster that lay shattered in pieces several feet from her. The brunt of the impact had been along the left side of her brow, hard enough to shatter the ocular cavity, making her eye look like it could very well slide out onto the floor at any moment. A pool of blood surrounded her head like a halo.
Perhaps the oddest thing about her was that her sweatpants were pulled down to her ankles and her underwear pulled down to her knees. Chloe hunkered down closer to the body and looked for any other details. She saw what looked like two small scratch marks on the side of her neck. They looked to be fresh and in the shape of fingernails.
Wheres the husband? she asked.
In custody, Greene said. Hes admitted to it and already told the police what happened.
But if its a domestic dispute, why call the FBI in? she asked.
Because this guy was arrested three years ago for beating up his first wife so bad that she went to the ER. But she didnt press charges. And his home computer was flagged two weeks ago for potential snuff videos.
Chloe took all of that information and applied it to what she was seeing. She interlocked it all like a puzzle and spoke her theories out loud as they came to her.
Given this mans history, he was prone to violence. Extreme violence, if the crushed toaster is any indication. The sweatpants pushed down and underwear not quite all the way down indicates that he was trying to have sex with her here in the kitchen. Maybe they were having sex and she wanted it to stop. Scratch marks on her neck indicate that the sex was rough and either consensual at first or entirely unwanted.
She paused here and studied the blood. The blood looks to be relatively fresh. Id estimate the murder to have occurred within the last six hours.
And what would your next steps be? Greene asked. If we didnt have this guy in custody right now and there was an active search for him, how would you follow up?
Id check for evidence of intercourse. We could get his DNA and get a match. While waiting for those results, though, Id look for things like wallets upstairs in the bedroom, hoping for a drivers license. Of course, thats if it wasnt already suspected that it was the husband. If that were the case, we could get the name from the address.
Greene smiled at her, nodding. Thats right. Youd be surprised how many rookies miss the fact that its sort of a trick question. Youre in the guys house, so youd already know his name. But if it wasnt suspected that it was the husband, youre exactly right. AlsoFine, are you okay?
The question took her by surprisemainly because she wasnt okay. She had zoned out, staring at the blood on the kitchen tile. It pulled her all the way back into her past, staring at a pool of blood drying into the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.
Without warning, she started to grow faint. She braced herself against the kitchen island, afraid she was going to puke. It was alarming and embarrassing.
Is this what I can look forward to at any remotely gruesome crime scene? At any scenes that remotely resemble what happened to Mom?
She could hear Sally in the back of her head, one of the first things shed ever said to Chloe: I dont know how a woman would make an exceptional agent. Especially one with your traumatic background. I wonder if that sort of stress comes home with you
Sorry, excuse me, she mumbled. She pushed herself off the island and ran back to the front door. She nearly fell down the porch stairs on her way to the lawn, sure she was going to throw up.
Thankfully, the fates spared her that particular embarrassment. She took a series of deep breaths, concentrating so intently on them that she almost didnt notice when Greene came quietly down the porch steps.
There are certain cases that get to me, too, he told her. He kept a respectable distance, letting her have her space. There are going to be scenes that are much worse. Sadly, after a while, you sort of become desensitized to it.
She nodded, as she had heard all of that before. I know. Its justthis scene brought up something. A memory I dont like dealing with.
The bureau has exceptional therapists to help agents process through things like this. So never think youre alone or that something like this makes you less of an agent.
Thanks, Chloe said, finally managing to stand upright again.
She realized that she suddenly missed her sister very badly. As morbid as it seemed, fond thoughts of Danielle would flood through her whenever memories of the day their mother died surfaced in her head. It was no different now; Chloe could not help but think of her sister. Danielle had been through a lot over the yearsa victim of circumstance as well as her own poor decisions. And now that Chloe lived so close, it seemed unthinkable that they should remain so distant.
Sure, shed invited Danielle to the block part this weekend, but Chloe found herself unable to wait that long. And Chloe suspected that she wouldnt even come.
Suddenly, she knew: she had to see her now.
***Chloe didnt know why she was so nervous when she knocked on Danielles door. She knew Danielle was in; the same car shed had as a teenager was parked in the apartment complex parking lot, still boasting the band stickers. Nine Inch Nails. KMFDM. Ministry. Seeing the car and those stickers brought a pang of nostalgia that was more sadness than anything else.
Has she really not grown up at all? Chloe wondered.
When Danielle answered the door, Chloe saw that she had not. Or, rather, it did not look like it in terms of appearance.
The sisters looked at one another for a period of two seconds before they finally moved in for a brief hug. Chloe saw that Danielle still dyed her hair black. She was also still sporting the lip ring, protruding from the left corner of her mouth. She was wearing a slight bit of black eyeliner and was decked out in a Bauhaus T-shirt and ripped jeans.
Chloe, Danielle said, breaking into the faintest of smiles. How have you been?
It was as if they had seen one another just the day before. That was fine, though. Chloe had not exactly been expecting any sentiment from her sister.
Chloe stepped into the apartment and, not caring much how Danielle would receive it, gave her sister another hug. It had been a little over a year since they had seen one anotherand about three since they had actually embraced one another like this. Something about the fact that they now lived in the same city seemed to have bonded something between themit was something Chloe could feel, something she knew would not need to be vocalized.