“Yes sir,” she said. “I’ll call Rhodes right away.”
And just like that, she had her first active case in three weeks. The timing wasn’t the best but who was she to argue? At the end of the day, she’d joined the bureau to help people in need—to help bring a sense of justice to a criminal system she had never fully trusted.
In light of all that had happened concerning her father in recent weeks—including her own misconceptions about him—it seemed almost fitting that it was this mindset that followed her as she got into her car and called up Agent Rhodes.
CHAPTER THREE
If Rhodes suspected that Chloe was dealing with personal issues, she made no mention of it as they rode out into Falls Church. In fact, she had not said anything about a change in Chloe’s personality for the three weeks they had been working together on the profile project—trying to come up with a profile on a man believed to be leading the charge on a series of armed bank robberies in New York. Then again, Rhodes was something of a hard ass and kept to herself. Even when their partnership had hit a new level after Chloe had saved her life following a near-fatal gunshot wound, Rhodes showed no signs of wanting to know Chloe on a deeply personal level.
And that was perfectly fine with Chloe.
In fact, most of the drive from DC to Falls Church, Virginia, was covered in silence. Johnson had not given them much to go on; the details on the murder were practically nothing. All he’d told them was that the local deputy would be on the scene to debrief them when they arrived.
The closest they came to a meaningful conversation occurred just as they got off on the exit ramp to enter Falls Church. “You know much about this city?” Rhodes asked.
“A bit. Mostly upper class, I think. But this neighborhood we’re headed to, if I remember correctly from a case study back in the academy, it’s one of those areas that’s rich mainly because of what they call old money.”
“Ah, you mean rich people that are rich because mommy and daddy were rich and didn’t have anything to do with the money after they died.”
“Basically, yes.”
Rhodes chuckled and looked out the window. “It seems to me that you and I have become the go-to agents on things like this. Well…you, anyway. How do you feel about that?”
It wasn’t anything Chloe had really considered before. She simply shrugged and answered honestly: “I guess everyone needs a niche to specialize in.”
Rhodes let it go after that. Chloe was doing her best to convey that she had no interest in small talk right now—trying to get the point across without being too rude. Apparently, it worked. They made it to the crime scene—a beautiful two-story home in an affluent neighborhood—without another word spoken between them. Most of the lots were either wooded or boasted huge backyards. The neighborhood itself was a bit removed from the more densely packed neighborhoods, giving each home a bit of space to breathe.
The presence of a single police car in the driveway seemed terribly out of place. It gave the residence an almost haunted feel after having seen so many of the other homes. It was like a blemish on the neighborhood.
They parked the car and walked up to the porch. The door was closed, so Chloe knocked, not wanting to be presumptuous by just walking in when there was an officer there waiting for them. Her knock was answered right away. The officer who opened the door looked to be in his early thirties. He was clean-shaven, quite plain looking, and appeared surprised to find two women on the other side of the door.
“We’re Agents Fine and Rhodes,” Chloe said. “We were sent to look into the murder of Jessie Fairchild.”
The officer extended his hand and introduced himself. “Deputy Ed Nolan. I’m running the wrap-up on this. Come on in.”
He ushered them inside, where Chloe discovered the house was larger inside than it had appeared outside. The foyer was nearly the size of the living room in Chloe’s apartment and the ceilings were at least twelve feet over her head. The place felt as if it hadn’t been lived in for quite some time, giving Chloe a creepy vibe.
“So what’s the story here?” Chloe asked. “All we’ve been told is that we need to rule it out as connecting to a case from last year.”
“What case is that?” Nolan asked.
“Three strangulation deaths about five miles away from here,” Rhodes said. “All women, all between the ages of forty and sixty.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll be able to rule that out pretty quickly.”
“Why is that?” Chloe asked.
“Well, the body has obviously been moved by now, but I can show you the pictures. Mrs. Fairchild wasn’t killed by strangulation, although she had been strangled too. It was more like a slice to the throat…but in a weird way that I’ve never seen before.”
He led them into the kitchen and grabbed a file folder from the bar. He used it to point up the stairs as he said, “The house cleaner discovered the body in the master bedroom upstairs. She went up while leaving the utility sink in the mudroom going. She obviously got a little sidetracked by finding the body, so much so that the utility sink overflowed.”
“Let’s go take a look at the bedroom, then,” Chloe said.
Nolan nodded and took the lead. As they passed through, Chloe noticed that either the cleaning lady was exceptionally good at her job or the Fairchilds just naturally kept a clean house.
The upstairs hallway was just as impressive as the downstairs. A bookshelf stood at the end of the hall, built into the walls. There were four rooms along the hall, two of which were bedrooms, the third a secondary bathroom, and the fourth an office.
Nolan led them to the master bedroom. While the body had of course been moved, Chloe saw that the sheets had not been removed since the murder.
“The room is exactly as it was when the body was discovered?” Chloe asked.
“All we moved was the body,” Nolan confirmed.
“Can you walk us through the details?”
He did just that as Chloe looked around the room with Rhodes. She listened to each detail, trying to play it all out in her head, imagining the scenes taking place in the room in which she currently stood.
“Rosa Ramirez, the house cleaner, discovered the body around eleven thirty in the morning. Police were on the scene just before noon. I was part of the initial party to respond to the call, so I was able to see everything in this folder firsthand. Jessie Fairchild’s throat had been cut, but in a very strange and grisly fashion. While we do believe there was strangulation involved, the cutting was done with a very large diamond ring.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Positive. Forensics confirmed it late yesterday. It was coated in blood and the jagged lines of the cut match the cut of the diamond. For what it’s worth, her husband isn’t sure if the ring belonged to his wife.”
“Hold on,” Rhodes said. “There’s no way a diamond ring is big enough to cut that deep.”
“We thought the same thing,” Nolan said. “But the angle of the cut hit a vital artery and it also punctured the windpipe.”
“Any motive?” Chloe asked.
“We originally assumed it was a home invasion or robbery. I’m sure you’ve noticed that this place is loaded with valuables.” He pointed to the walk-in closet on the left side of the room and added: “There’s a disgusting amount of jewelry in there. When we talked to the husband, he pointed out a necklace that’s worth about thirty grand. And it wasn’t in a safe, either. Just hanging there, on a plain old jewelry rack. There’s also two cars in the garage, one of which costs about three years of my salary. A huge pool in the back, a spa-level hot tub. It’s being humble to say the Fairchilds were loaded. And with them being new to the neighborhood, we assumed it was a robbery. But we can’t find any evidence of that.”