Page 9 of The Killer You Know
“Look at that,” I say to Jack. “It looks as if they were slipping their way out.”
“Or smudging their prints so we couldn’t get a good look at them.”
We start snapping pictures of the deceased, the footprints, the lamp on the floor in the living room. We follow the path of the footprints through the kitchen and take as many pictures of the scene as we can before we’re forbidden from straying into evidence.
The house is neat and clean, modern to the hilt, large but not a mega mansion like Vanessa Copeland’s mother’s estate.
The sound of sobbing comes from the dining room and Jack and I drift that way to find a man in a suit, his jacket off, his white dress shirt smeared with blood. A few deputies surround him and one brings him a bottle of water that looks as if it came from the fridge.
“Thank you,” he says just above a whisper.
Jack nods to the deputies and they make themselves scarce. “Mr. Hanson?”
The man looks up, long face, high forehead with lots of frown lines, eyes laced with crimson tracks. He looks to be in his late forties, not too muscular but strong enough to overpower his wife if he had to.
“Special Agent Stone,” he says. “This is my partner, Special Agent Baxter.” He flashes his badge as we step in close. “Do you think we can have a quick word with you?”
“I’ll do anything to find the monster that did this,” he says, landing his water on the table.
“Let’s start with what happened when you got home,” I say.
He sniffs hard and nods as his gaze falls to the floor. “I was coming home late. I stopped by to pick up some food for the two of us. I sent her a text while I was in line at the fast food place to see what she wanted, but she didn’t text back. I figured she was in the shower or something. I came home and had a hard time getting the door to open. I called out for her just as I forced it and there was a thud.” His voice breaks and his eyes fill with tears. “That’s when I saw her. At first, I didn’t even think it was Robin. There was so much blood I couldn’t comprehend it. Immediately, I checked her breathing. I tried to do CPR, but that wasn’t working so I called 911. The operator told me to get out of the house, but I couldn’t leave her. I wouldn’t.”
He sounds sincere and devoted. Although most sociopaths can pull that off no problem. Not that I’m accusing him. But I’m not taking him off the table either.
“Mr. Hanson,” I start.
“Daniel, Please, call me Daniel.”
“Daniel,” I say in a softer tone than before. “Did your wife have any enemies? Any trouble with anyone at all that you’ve seen or that she may have mentioned?”
He shakes his head emphatically. “Not that I know of. But to be honest, I don’t keep up with her like the rest of the world does. She’s been a social media maven for the last few years. To say it’s taken over our lives is an understatement. We couldn’t eat dinner without staging our food. Heck, we couldn’t brush our teeth without her having to snap a picture. She was successful and I was happy for her. Robin, on the other hand, was never too happy, or I should say content. And she acknowledged it. She said that it gave her the competitive edge she needed to feed off.”
“Do you know her passwords to any of her social media accounts?” I ask.
“No, but I already told the sheriff they could take her laptop and phone if needed. They said the FBI would do the honors. I’m guessing that’s you.”
I nod. “That’s us, all right. Once CSI clears it, we’ll take a look at it.”
Her phone is near her body and CSI is sending it to forensics next, so we’re still a day or two away from getting our hands on either of those things.
Jack and I give Daniel our cards and assure him we’ll do everything to find his wife’s killer. Even if the killer is Daniel himself, but I keep that last part to myself.
We’re about to head back out when Jack stops cold in front of the wedding picture that hangs on the wall.
Both Robin and Daniel wear dreamy smiles, looking like a bride and groom right out of a storybook as they stand under an arch comprised of white roses.
A heavy sigh expels from Jack and he staggers back toward the dining room at a quickened pace.
“One more thing,” he says to Daniel as he sits hunched over himself. “What was your wife’s maiden name?”
“Lowell,” the man says.
“Thank you.” Jack speeds us out of the house and away from the crowd as we head for his truck.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” I ask just as Buddy perks up from the back seat, happy to see us.
“I thought Robin Hanson looked familiar.” He glances back at the house as the red and blue lights from the sheriff’s cars tear through the night like a seizure. “It’s because I knew her as Robin Lowell.” His eyes latch to mine. “She was in my graduating class. Two of my classmates are assaulted on the very same night and one of them is dead. I think we can cross off all coincidences from here on out.”