Page 25 of Vision of Justice
“I blurred the lines. No. I destroyed them.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s never happened before, not in my entire time on the force. But she’s different.”
“Happy for you.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” He glanced to his left, toward the hall door. “I slept with a witness—someone who’s been interrogated as a suspect.”
“We all know she had no part in this. Most likely she’s one of the victims.” She scooted up so she was sitting on the edge of his desk. “Listen, you’re not the first person to meet someone in the line of duty, and you won’t be the last. I mean, I wouldn’t announce it during roll call or to the lieutenant, but you’ve had a shit run and have been working your ass off since you were barely more than a kid. You’re good at what you do and honest to a fault. Give yourself a break, keep things under wraps, and it will all work out.”
Could it really be that easy, or was Wright just trying to make him feel better? The latter. “Thanks for the pep talk, but I don’t think our superiors would have the same perspectives.”
“Yup. And that’s why you told me and not them. So, what did you find?” she asked, changing the subject and leaning in to look at his notes.
“Connections. VP of Finance for Haven Security graduated high school four years prior to Melissa Fletcher’s father. While he was earning his accounting degree, he worked at Jefferson and Sons as an assembly technician. Your hit-and-run vic? Also on the assembly line. I talked to the lieutenant last night, and Melissa Fletcher’s grandfather, who inherited Jefferson, died the month before she was abducted.” He tilted his head to the left and right, stretching out the stiffness in his neck from falling asleep on the couch.
“Convenient coincidence.” She swung her legs back and forth and looked like one of those Elf-on-a-Shelf things at Christmastime.
“Exactly.” A ruckus sounded down the hall. First shift had arrived.
Wright rolled her eyes in the direction of the loud voices and laughter. “Any matches on the blood used to write that message to Sasha?”
“No.” He clenched his jaw. They needed all the information they could get, but things took time. “While we’re waiting on that, I dug up the name of the assembly line manager at Jefferson in an old news article. Marjory Wendall.”
“In the area?” Her brown eyes lit with interest.
“Yeah, about half hour from here.”
Wright nodded and slid off the desk. “Let’s take a field trip.”
They took his car to the Tudor-style home situated on a sleepy street in the neighboring town. The stucco and brick façade was shaded by tall red oak trees, providing lots of coverage if someone wanted to sneak up to the house undetected. He pulled into the driveway behind a four-door sedan, put the car in park, then exited the vehicle. The slam of car doors was amplified by the hush that hovered over the area.
“This type of house gives me the creeps,” Wright whispered as they walked up the stone drive. “Reminds me of Hansel and Gretel.”
“Grass is long.” The lack in lawn maintenance struck him as odd, given the intricate gardens in front of the home. Why put so much effort into flower beds if you were going to let the grass block them? He banged his knuckles against the thick wooden door and waited. Then knocked again. Wright was standing next to him on the stoop, and they exchanged a glance.
“Let’s go around back. I have a bad feeling.” Her wary voice matched her stiffened spine.
The hair on the back of his neck rose as they skirted around the property. A flutter of blue had them both stopping and reaching for the weapons on their hips. “Slider’s open,” he said pointing his Glock to the ground. The indoor curtain was caught in the breeze, flapping with the wind.
“Gus.” Wright rarely used his first name, but it was shorter, and she was keeping her voice low. He glanced across his shoulder. Her nose was scrunched, brows knit. Another gust ruffled the curtain, carrying the familiar scent of putrefaction. Dammit. Soundlessly, they entered the home, and the smell choked him. A bloated body lay a few feet from the open door.
He looked over the discolored form, over the dried blood caked to the floor, to the victim’s hands. Wright’s eyes were honed in on the same area, at one palm turned in an unnatural angle, facing up. He ground his teeth as his stomach bottomed out. The smell of decay did nothing for the churning in his gut. Sasha’s safe, he reminded himself. The alarm was set, and he left her a note that he’d be back soon and not to go anywhere.
Wright lifted her radio. “Detective Wright to dispatch. We have a suspicious unattended death on Maple Lane in Sutton.” Her radio blipped as she reported the body.
“Body looks three maybe four days post-mortem. I want to know if this victim’s blood matches the tablecloth sample,” he said.
“Timeframe works out.”
Without another word, they began to clear the rest of the house before paramedics arrived to report the time of death. Once they determined there was no one lying in wait somewhere in the house, they began the process of securing the scene.
Stepping to the side, he removed his cell phone from his pocket.
Morning. Please don’t leave until I get back. Help yourself to anything.
Like that would really stop her if she had the mind to leave. He ignored the tightening in his chest and focused on the job at hand. The sooner they wrapped this up, the sooner he could check on Sasha and make sure she was safe.
Chapter Fifteen
Sasha couldn’t sit around idle, but she heeded Gus’s request to stay at the house until he returned. She’d woken to the sound of scratching at the side of the bed and Gilligan demanding to be picked up. When she did, he’d crawled up to the pillow beside her and curled into a ball with an exasperated huff. A hardened homicide detective who slept with a Chihuahua. She chuckled as she stirred the pot of soup. It was the second week of September and starting to feel more like fall than summer. The air flowed with a cool, crisp essence through the open kitchen window, mingling with the cozy scent of simmering vegetables and wild rice in a creamy broth.