AMBER HAD SENT a reluctant Zoe off to bed and was now sitting with her sister and Decker in the living room of her home.
“Two men dead?” said Amber in a trembling voice. “Murdered? I can’t believe it. In the house right behind us? My God!”
“The police will want to talk to you at some point,” said her sister.
“Why?” asked Amber frantically. “We know nothing about it.”
“Standard procedure,” noted Decker in a calming voice. “Because of your proximity to the crime scene. Nothing to get anxious about. It’s all routine.”
“Have you called Frank yet?” asked Jamison, rubbing her sister’s shoulder.
Frank Mitchell was Amber’s husband.
“I tried to, but he’s not answering his phone. When I called the office, they said he was in a meeting. With this new job, he’s having to work ungodly hours.”
“What does he do?” asked Decker.
“He’s the assistant manager at a fulfillment center. They fill online orders for lots of different companies. That’s why we moved here, because Frank got the job. He worked for the same company in Kentucky, but this is a step up for him. They employ a lot of people.”
“Warehouses are the big job creators now,” said Jamison knowingly. “I’ve been reading articles on it. It pays okay, above minimum wage, with benefits, but it’s really physically hard work.”
“Tell me about it,” said Amber. “Frank worked as a picker at the one when we lived in Kentucky. It was nonstop movement. They scored him on how many packages he was able to process. Thank God Frank moved up into management. He’s in his thirties, and in good shape, but the pace just wore him down, and he always had aches and pains.”
Amber looked toward the back window, at the house where two people had been found dead. “I thought this was going to be a fresh start for us. But now here we are, next to a murder investigation.”
Jamison said, “It could be something totally unconnected to the neighborhood. The two men in there might be from somewhere else.”
Amber did not look convinced. “What am I supposed to tell Zoe? She’s very sensitive and very observant. She’s going to have a ton of questions.”
“I can talk to her, if you like. Or Decker can.”
Decker looked startled. “I think it’s better if you speak to her, Alex,” he said.
“But you were talking to her out on the deck.”
“That’s why I think it’s better if you talk to her.”
Jamison looked at her sister. “Amber, it’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?” asked Decker.
“These aren’t the only murders in Baronville recently. I saw it on TV.”
“What other murders?” asked Decker quickly.
Amber was about to reply when someone knocked on the front door.
When she opened it, a man and a woman, both grim-faced, were standing on the front stoop.
The man was in his fifties, with a full head of gray hair. He was about five-eleven, his sloping chest running to a small potbelly that hung over his belt. The woman was petite and in her thirties, about five-three, with a wiry build, shoulder-length blonde hair, and pretty features. The man wore a rumpled suit. The collar of his white shirt had a small black stain and his tie was crooked. His teeth were uneven and darkened by nicotine. The woman had on a sleek black pantsuit with a pristine white blouse and two-inch chunky heels to bump up her height. And her teeth were a brilliant white.
They held out their badges and asked to come in.
“Detectives Marty Green and Donna Lassiter,” said the man. “Do you live here?” he asked Amber.
She nodded. “I’m Amber Mitchell.”
Green looked at Decker and Jamison. “Which means you two must have been first on the scene. We understand that you’re also with the FBI? Mind if we see your IDs?”
Decker and Jamison held out their creds. Green gave them a perfunctory glance, but Lassiter scrutinized them.
Green said, “We’ve read your statements. Now we’d like to hear your story first-hand.”
They all sat down in the living room. Lassiter said to Amber, “Ma’am, could I ask you to wait in the other room while we go over this with them? Thank you. We’ll want to talk to you later, of course.”
Amber quickly rose, glanced anxiously at her sister, and left.
The two homicide detectives settled their gazes on the pair.
Lassiter said, “Your IDs show you’re not special agents.”
“We’re not,” said Jamison. “We’re civilians working for an FBI task force.”
Green looked at Decker. “Civilians, huh? I’ve been a cop a long time and my nose tells me you’re one too.”
“Burlington, Ohio. Pounded a beat for ten and then a detective for about another decade before joining the Bureau.”
Green cleared his throat and opened his notebook. “Okay, let’s go over what happened tonight.”
Decker spoke first and then Jamison.
Green methodically wrote it all down with pen and paper.
Decker noted that Lassiter used a small electronic notebook, her fingers flying efficiently over the keys.
When they’d finished telling their stories, Decker said, “Did you determine cause of death yet? Or ID them?”
Green started to say something, but Lassiter got there first. “Sorry, but it’s our job to ask the questions, and yours to answer them.”
Decker looked at Green. “Do I take that as a no on both counts?”
Green said, “We’re working on it. There was a lot of blood, but no source that we could find.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. I didn’t see any wounds on the guy hanging, but you’ll need to check it against him, to see if it was his blood. They could have killed him, drained his blood, and strung him up.”
Green grimaced. “That sounds like some kind of cult thing. Like a sacrifice.”
“And if it’s not the vic’s blood?” said Lassiter.
“Then it might be somebody else’s. And they might be in a database somewhere.” He paused. “Or it might not be human blood.”
Lassiter and Green looked stunned by this.
“What makes you think it’s not human?” Green asked.
“I’m not saying I think that. I’m just saying that killing an animal and collecting its blood is less problematic than doing so with a human. Driving out here, we passed some farms with cows, goats, and pigs on them. I’m just saying it’s a possibility. Now, the guy in the basement: Was he one of yours?”
Lassiter started to say something, but this time Green beat her to it. “No, he wasn’t. But the uniform he had on was one of ours.” He added, “The big question is, where did it come from? We’re also tracking down the ownership of the house. Neither man had any ID on him.”
During this exchange Lassiter was looking at her partner with unconcealed exasperation. She leaned over to Green, but in a voice both Decker and Jamison could clearly hear, she said, “Marty, we haven’t ruled these two out as suspects.”
Green glanced at her and his expression turned uncertain. He looked at Decker. “We’ll need to check out your whereabouts during the time in question.”
Decker nodded. “We only got into town tonight around six. We stopped for gas right before we arrived here and the credit card transaction record and the CCTV at the gas station will confirm that. After we had dinner, I came out on the back porch. It was dark by then. Alex’s niece joined me a few minutes later. Alex was inside talking to her sister. Around eight-fifteen, I saw the spark and ran to the house and found the bodies. Alex called 911 a few minutes later. Your guys arrived shortly after that.” He paused. “I checked the pulse of the guy downstairs just to make sure he was dead. I didn’t have to do that with the guy hanging. The body in the basement was very cold even though it wasn’t really all that cold down there. And the limbs were stiff. And he had blowflies in his nostrils and it looked like they had already laid eggs. But the infestation was minimal.” He paused again and studied the pair for their reaction to this.
Green said, “If your alibis check out, then the time of death on both men might well eliminate you as suspects.” He glanced sideways at his partner before continuing. “How many homicides have you handled, Agent Decker?”
“Hundreds,” said Decker. “In Ohio and with the FBI. I’m technically on vacation, so if you want an extra pair of eyes, I’m available.”
“Decker,” admonished Jamison. “How is it a ‘vacation’ if you’re going to work another case?”
“It’s out of the question anyway,” said Lassiter.
Decker kept his gaze on Green. “I was just offering because I understand that these aren’t the only recent murders in town.”
“Who told you that?” said Lassiter sharply.
“Is it true?” asked Decker.
Green glanced at Lassiter and nodded. “Unfortunately, it is true.”