Page 18 of Haunted By Sin
“A few samples from our sample drawers were raided, but our security company is outstanding,” Duncan replied before giving his opinion on the robbery. “The detective doesn’t believe the break-in had anything to do with my wife’s murder. I’m inclined to agree, because that would mean someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure that I wasn’t home that night. I just…I can’t wrap my head around that.”
“How long were you at the clinic that night?”
“The police finished taking statements from me and Dr. Roberts around eight o’clock. I stayed behind for another forty minutes or so to organize the mess left behind.” Duncan inhaled slowly as he ventured ahead with his story of what was waiting for him at home. “I pulled into the garage. Mary’s SUV was parked in its usual spot. I made sure the garage door was closed before walking into the mudroom. I was quiet since I knew that Ava’s bedtime was around seven-thirty. I made my way through the kitchen, expecting Mary to be grading papers in the living room. She loved listening to music on low and enjoying a glass of wine while sitting in front of the fireplace.”
“Did you hear music when you entered the house?”
Sylvie’s question grabbed Duncan’s attention. The way his eyes narrowed and the manner in which he focused his attention on the black box near the television emphasized his struggle to recall such a detail. He gradually shook his head.
“No. No, there wasn’t any music playing,” Duncan replied as his stare drifted toward the overstuffed chair closest to the gas fireplace. “I do remember that Mary’s tablet and stylus were on the side table next to the chair.”
“And a wineglass?”
Duncan once again shook his head in response.
“I take it that grading papers with a glass of wine and some music was a nightly ritual for Mary?” Sylvie asked, hoping to pinpoint a smaller timeframe so that Bit could once again go through a specific range of security footage obtained from the neighbors’ doorbell cameras. “Did she do so at a certain time?”
“After tucking Ava into bed, which is around seven-thirty.”
Sylvie granted another fifteen minutes for Mary to have picked up a bit, maybe place some dishes in the dishwasher, before she collected her tablet from her purse or bag. No music or wine meant that someone had come into the home before Mary had been able to finish setting the ambiance for a comfortable evening. Still, nothing that Bit had discovered on the footage handed over by the local police had shown anyone near the front of the house.
“Mr. Reynolds, would you mind if I take a walk around your backyard?” Sylvie asked after listening to the details of how he had discovered his wife’s body lying on the area rug. Mary had changed into loungewear at some point during the evening, and her light grey long-sleeved shirt had been soaked in blood. Duncan immediately dialed 911 after checking for a pulse. He described the sightless eyes of his wife, and how he had known instantly that no measures taken could have saved her life. “The detective made several references in his report that there were no forced signs of entry on the doors or windows. No one’s security cameras caught anyone of interest out front, but aerial footage shows a conservation area out back.”
“We had snow in January, and there were no footprints from the side gate to the back door,” Duncan responded as he shifted his weight to push off the counter.
Sylvie left her now cold coffee on the countertop as she stood from the stool to follow him. He flipped the deadbolt and opened the back door. Lightning branched across the sky, its brief illumination displaying the gathered storm clouds above. Sylvie figured she had mere minutes before raindrops began to fall.
“Mary wouldn’t have let some stranger inside the house, either.”
Sylvie stepped onto the back patio after Duncan had moved to the side. He didn’t bother to close the door. Instead, he remained near the threshold as he studied the darkening sky above. The air was charged with humidity even though the storm front was bringing in cooler temperatures.
“Mr. Reynolds, did you have some work done to the landscape recently?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Duncan leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. He gestured toward the flat gray pavers that served as a walkway toward the side gate. Only there was a more established path that led from the back patio to the conservation area, running horizontally through the backyards behind the row of homes on the north side of the neighborhood. “Mary and I had planned to buy a pontoon boat for the lake, and she was really hung up on making a beautiful pathway lined with flowers between the house and conservation area.”
“The pavers that lead to the trees seem to have been there for a while,” Sylvie pointed out as she thought back to the crime scene photos. Forensics had taken pictures of the exterior, as well. “Did you or Mary spread salt pebbles over the stones? The notation in the report regarding the assumption that no one had entered the backyard focused on the undisturbed blanket of snow.”
“That’s because there were no footprints on either side of the house,” Duncan responded with a frown. He didn’t seem to be on the same page as her. “Granted, the pavers are heated, but there were still no tracks discovered in the snow.”
“The pavers are heated?” The first raindrop fell from the gathered clouds above, but Sylvie remained standing on the edge of the patio. “So there wouldn’t have been any snow to leave footprints behind on the surface of the pavers then.”
“True, but whoever murdered my wife would have had to walk around the house.”
“Or entered through the back gate that opens into the conservation area.”
Duncan was already shaking his head at Sylvie’s theory, but she had witnessed firsthand the lengths a killer would go to in an effort to reach his or her target.
“There are fences on both ends of the conversation area, and the police canvassed the backyards of every home,” Duncan revealed somewhat reluctantly, though Sylvie could sense his interest in her theory. “Even if what you say is true, and someone used a boat to reach the conservation area, Mary never would have allowed someone into our home.”
“What if a male subject was in trouble? Would Mary have wanted to help him?” Sylvie asked as the spitting of raindrops became more frequent. She finally turned and began to walk back toward Duncan. “What if the man had blood on his head or maybe wet clothes from falling into the lake?"
Duncan hesitated, but Sylvie already had her answer. Mary Two had been a very kind individual, and she never would have let someone hurt remain outside in freezing temperatures. What Sylvie hadn’t mentioned was that she believed whoever had been at Mary’s back door had been someone she was familiar with…either from school, the local cafe, or maybe even the grocery store.
A clap of thunder was joined by a very long streak of lightning, prompting Sylvie to quicken her pace. She and Duncan entered the house right as the sky opened up and released a deluge of rain. She swept her gaze over the backyard before closing the door against the severe elements. It was one thing to know about the lake and the conservation area, but it was another thing entirely to know about specialty items such as heated pavers to obscure one’s footprints.
Chapter Ten
Bobby “Bit” Nowacki