Silent Neighbor

by Blake Pierce

  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.”

  “Was anything taken?” Chloe asked.

  “We had the husband do a run-through to look around, but he came up with nothing. He said he could not see where anything had been taken. Of course, he was distraught from having had his wife recently murdered so who knows how accurate of a search he did…”

  “You said you thought there was some sort of strangulation involved,” Rhodes said. “Do you know what she was strangled with?”

  “We don’t know for sure, but we think it was a fox stole—this fur wrap sort of thing. We found it tucked under the bed. Forensics says they’re pretty sure both ends of it had recently been tightly gripped and pulled. The husband also said he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever seen her wearing it.”

  “What can you tell us about the Fairchilds?” Chloe asked. She was stepping toward the bed, looking at the dried bloodstains on the top sheet.

  “They were new in town. Moved in about five weeks ago. There are still some boxes out in the garage that they hadn’t even unpacked yet. The husband, Mark, is some kind of big-shot banker…something with finances and stocks. Jessie Fairchild dealt with social media…some kind of influencer for C-list celebrities. Instagram, Facebook, stuff like that. Moved here from Boston…the husband said it was because they were just getting tired of the big-city congestion.”

  “Where is the husband now?” Chloe asked.

  “He went to some cabin out in the mountains with his brother. Left this morning, actually. He’s um…well, he’s a wreck. I mean, people take death different ways, I know. But this man…I watched him just sort of crumple and wither up, you know? It was the worst I’d ever seen.”

  “No fingerprints anywhere on the scene, I take it?” Chloe asked.

  �
��None. We did find a single loose hair on that fox stole, though. It was blond, and Jessie Fairchild was a brunette. It’s being tested as we speak…should know something pretty soon.”

  Chloe took a moment to take it all in. Because there was a strong indication of at least some sort of strangulation, she could not rule out a connection to the murders from a year ago. But the cut with the diamond ring told her this was something new…something different. She picked up the folder and nearly opened it up to start digging into it right then and there.

  “You said you’re in charge of wrapping the loose ends?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can we follow you to your precinct? I’d like to get a workstation set up.”

  “So you do think it’s related to the strangulation murders from last year?” Nolan asked. It was clear that he had not been expecting this.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Chloe said. “But what I do know is that a woman is dead—that she was killed in her own home—and we currently have no one in custody. So…let’s get to work.”

  Nolan smiled at her go-get-’em attitude. He nodded and started back for the bedroom door, headed to the hall. “Let’s get started then.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Chloe opened up the folder on the Jessie Fairchild murder as soon as she was settled down at the precinct. Nolan had given them an office that had once belonged to an assistant deputy who had been let go as a result of cutbacks. Some of the former assistant deputy’s belongings had been left behind, making Chloe feel out of place.

  Still, she buckled down and pored over the information in the file. She was impressed with how well put together it all was. Apparently, Deputy Nolan had a knack for organization and details.

  Beyond the basic police report, which included everything Nolan had already told them at the Fairchild residence, there were several pictures of Jessie Fairchild’s body. She was fully dressed, on the bed. Her head was cocked to the left, her opened eyes staring in the direction of the pool of blood that had collected around her head. The most noticeable feature of her body, though, was the ragged laceration along the center of her neck.

  The pictures must have been taken within several hours of the murder because most of the blood was still wet. She could see where it was starting to congeal, but it was still mostly fresh. The cut itself was quite brutal. It was jagged and gruesome, a straight line that looked almost as if it had been sawed into the flesh. Chloe could also see very slight indications that something had been wrapped around her neck, though it was hard to tell for certain from the photos. Without seeing the body, she’d have to take the word of the forensics team. But if what she did see was indeed where something had been wrapped around her neck, it would line up perfectly with the fox stole that she saw in one of the other pictures.

  She also saw a picture of the diamond ring that had been used to make the cut. It was sitting on the bedside table; the killer had not made any attempts to clean it or hide it. As far as Chloe was concerned, this was the killer trying to send a message.

  But what message?

  “The ring is throwing me off,” Rhodes said. “Why put it right there on the bedside table? Is he bragging? Maybe trying to tell us something?”

  “I was just wondering the same thing. I wonder if the ring has any special meaning. Why that ring. It looks like one of those engagement/wedding ring combo deals.”

  “It also looks expensive as hell,” Rhodes added.

  “It’s got to be symbolic in some way. You don’t just accidentally place a blood-soaked diamond ring on a nightstand after using it to kill someone.”

  “So you think it’s the killer trying to tell us something?”

  “It might be. It could also—”

  She was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She pulled it out, assuming it would be Johnson to make sure they had arrived. But when she saw DAD on the display, she cringed a bit. A flare of anger went spiraling through her, leaving bits of fear in its wake.

  She ignored the call and placed her phone face down on the desk. When she returned her attention to the folder in front of her, it was hard to get back on track.

  “You okay?” Rhodes asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Well, you just looked at your phone like it called you a slut or something.”

  Chloe shrugged, hating the passive feel of it. “Just personal stuff.”

  Rhodes nodded, clearly not wanting to engage in anything deep. “Yeah, personal stuff can certainly suck.”

  As Chloe continued to try getting refocused on the folder, there was a knock at the door. When it opened, she saw Deputy Nolan’s face peeking in. When he opened it wider, she saw another man behind him. He looked much older and wore one of those thick gray moustaches that always reminded Chloe of a walrus.

  “Agents,” Nolan said, “this is Chief Clifton.”

  Clifton came into the office and looked at both of them, giving nods of appreciation. He looked at the folder, currently opened on the desk and revealing one of the photos of the gory cut along Jessie Fairchild’s neck, and quickly looked away.

  Chloe and Rhodes ran through a quick series of introductions as Nolan entered behind Chief Clifton, closing the door behind him.

  “Was Deputy Nolan able to get you everything you needed?” Clifton asked.

  “Absolutely,” Chloe answered. “He was very accommodating.”

  “Is there anything else we can get for you?”

  “Well, being that it was such a large house, I’m assuming there was a security system. Any evidence of that?”

  “Yes, actually,” Nolan said. “The husband gave us the code so we could reset it after leaving the house.”

  “And he never got any sort of alerts that the alarms had been tripped?”

  “None.”

  “Can we get some sort of report on that?” Rhodes asked.

  Nolan and Clifton nodded in unison. “I’ll get in touch with the security company,” Nolan said.

  “Also, we’d obviously want to speak with the husband,” Chloe said. “Deputy, you said he was in the mountains somewhere with his brother, right? Any idea when he’s coming back?”

  “No idea. He didn’t say.”

  “I’d really like him to be here, in town,” Chloe said.

  “You suspect him?”

  “Not necessarily. But he is the man closest to the victim.” She did not put an accusatory tone into her voice, though she did find it irresponsible that the police had simply allowed the husband to leave.

  “I’ll get him on the phone, too. He might actually be very accommodating. If he knows the FBI is on this and it will help catch the killer, I think he might get down here pretty quickly, actually.”

  “One last thing,” Chloe said. “I know you said the Fairchilds are new to the area. But do either of you happen to know if Jessie Fairchild had any enemies? Any calls or complaints about her and her husband, or maybe from them about someone else?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Clifton said. “But that neighborhood…hell, that whole area…it’s sort of a mess. We do get calls from time to time. Jealous wives trying to catch their husbands in affairs that don’t exist, snooty homeowners trying to get their neighbors in trouble because their dog shit in their yard. People in that neighborhood think far too highly of themselves.”

  “Forgive me for asking, but why are you telling us this?” Rhodes asked.

  “Because while I would not go so far as to say that Jessie Fairchild had enemies, I can almost guarantee you that she had women in the neighborhood that were at least envious. It’s a very snotty neighborhood. I know that’s not the best thing for a police chief to say, but it’s the sad truth of the matter.”

  “Well, that could potentially mean there’s a deep pool of potential leads,” Chloe said. “If these are the types of women you’re insinuating, there might be quite a bit of gossip. Maybe they already know some things and can lead us in the right direction.”

  Clifton chuckled und
er his breath and shrugged. “I wish you the best of luck with that.”

  Chloe knew where he was coming from but was irritated by the unhelpful nature of the comment. “For now, I’d like the contact information of the cleaning lady who discovered the body.”

  “We’ve already spoken to her at length,” Clifton said. “You’re welcome to just look over our notes.” He was not necessarily being defensive, but wanted to make sure she knew that they weren’t totally inept. She wondered if that had anything to do with him realizing that they probably should not have let the husband leave town so soon after the murder.

  “All the same, I think I’d like to speak with her personally.”

  Clifton folded his arms but nodded. “I’ll see that you get that information promptly,” he said. He gave a quick smile before saying: “It was nice meeting you, Agents.” With that, he opened the door and headed out.

  Nolan cringed and said, “He gets like that. Especially the few times we’ve worked with the bureau or other outside agencies. Control issues…just between the three of us.”

  Chloe made a zipping gesture across her mouth. “I get it. Now…if we can get the cleaning lady’s information, I’d like to meet with her before it gets too late.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rosa Ramirez lived in an apartment just on the cusp of the nicer edge of the downtown district. When she took the call from Nolan, she seemed quite eager to help Chloe and Rhodes. When they arrived at her apartment at 4:30, it was clear that she had straightened up her place just for them. She even had coffee and graham crackers set out on her coffee table as snacks.

  “Ms. Ramirez,” Chloe said, “how long had you been working for the Fairchilds? As I understand it, they had only been in town for about five weeks.”

  “That’s right. I responded to a help wanted ad I saw online. This was about a week before they even moved out here. They wanted everything set up and ready to go when they moved in. That included a house cleaner. I even stepped in to help them unpack some of their things.”