CHAPTER SIX

Chloe arrived in Assistant Director Garcia’s office three minutes later. He was sitting at the small conference table in the back, looking through a few papers. She saw that he had already set out two cups of coffee for them, steaming and black, on either side of the table.

“Good morning, Agent Fine,” he said as she entered. “Have you seen or spoken with Agent Rhodes?”

“She was pulling in just as I got on the elevator.”

Garcia seemed to think about this for a moment, maybe confused as to why she had not simply waited at the elevator if she’d seen Rhodes. She then wondered just how much Johnson had told him about the little power struggle that was at play in their partnership.

Having finished her own coffee in her car on the way, Chloe sat down in front of one of the cups and sipped from it. She preferred a splash of cream and some sugar but didn’t want to appear high maintenance. Just as she started sipping, Rhodes entered the room. The first thing she did was shoot Chloe a look of annoyance. She then took the seat in front of the other cup of coffee.

Garcia eyed them both, apparently sensing the tension, but then shrugged. “We’ve got a murder in Landover, Maryland. It’s a case that appeared pretty normal at first. Maryland PD is running it right now but they’ve asked for our help. It’s also worth mentioning that Jacob Ketterman of White House Public Affairs knows the victim. He used to work with her back in the day. He has requested we look into it as well, as a favor. And when it comes from the White House, we try to keep it quiet. That should be simple with this case. It’s a pretty simple homicide from the looks of it. It’s one of the reasons we’re putting new agents on it. It’ll be a good test and there seems to be so pressing time table, although of course we’d like it solved as soon as possible.”

He then slid two copies of his report over to them. The details were brief and to the point. As Chloe read over them, Garcia recited what he had learned.

“The victim is thirty-six-year-old Kim Wielding. She was working as a nanny for the Carver family when she was killed. From the best we can tell, someone entered the home and killed her. She was hit in the head twice with something very hard and then strangled. There were two rather nasty blows to the head. It has yet to be determined which of those things killed her. We need the two of you to find out who did it.”

“Was the murder the sole reason for the killer to visit the home?” Chloe asked.

“Seems that way. Nothing was reported stolen. The house seemed exactly the way the Carvers last saw it…with the exception of their dead nanny. The address is right there in the files,” Garcia continued. “I just got off the phone with the sheriff in Landover. Both of the Carvers and their three children have been staying at a motel since the murder occurred two days ago. But they’ll be meeting with you at the house this morning to answer any questions. And that’s it, Agents. Get out there and get another win for us. Head down to HR and check out a car between the two of you. You familiar with the process?”

Chloe was not, but nodded anyway. She assumed Rhodes already knew the ins and outs. Given the way yesterday had gone, Chloe assumed Rhodes knew just about every single piece of information on how the bureau was run.

Both Chloe and Rhodes got up from the table. Chloe took one last gulp of her coffee before heading out of Garcia’s office. They walked down the hallway toward the elevator without a word shared between them.

This is going to be a long day if she and I don’t get past this stupid rivalry nonsense, Chloe thought.

As Chloe pushed the Down arrow, she turned to Rhodes and did her best to not just break the ice—but to obliterate it.

“Agent Rhodes, let’s just get it out in the open. Do you have a problem with me?”

Rhodes smirked and took a moment to think about her answer. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t have a problem with you, Agent Fine. But I am a bit hesitant to work with someone that was placed into ViCAP at the very last minute. It makes me wonder if someone is doing you favors—favors that are unfair to other agents that busted their asses to be part of this program.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was asked to join this program. I was perfectly content to stay my course with the Evidence Response Team.”

Rhodes shrugged as the elevator doors opened up. “I’m not so sure the ERT would have been so thrilled with how you muddled that footprint yesterday.”

To that, Chloe remained silent. She could keep having this little war of words with Rhodes, but it would do nothing but make the working relationship even worse than it already was. If she was going to bring it to a stop, she was simply going to have to prove herself to Rhodes.

Besides, she had screwed up yesterday. And the only way to fix that was to prove herself with this new case.

***

When Rhodes elected to drive without any sort of conversation about it, Chloe let it ride. It wasn’t worth getting upset about. On the way to Landover, Chloe started to wonder if something had happened at some point during Rhodes’s path to get to where she was—something that caused her to be bossy and to overcompensate. She had plenty of time to ponder this during the half-hour drive to Landover because Rhodes was still not making any real effort to talk.

They arrived at the Carver residence at 8:05. It was a gorgeous house in a well-to-do neighborhood, the type where all of the lawns were perfectly edged to show the perfect lines of the sidewalks. There was a newer minivan in the driveway, parked in front of the garage. Rhodes pulled in behind it and killed the engine. She then looked over to Chloe and asked: “We good?”

“I don’t think so, but that doesn’t matter. Let’s just focus on the case.”

“That’s what I meant,” Rhodes spat as she opened the door and got out.

Chloe joined her and as they did, a man and a woman got out of the minivan—the Carvers, Chloe presumed. A quick round of introduction reveled that these were indeed the Carvers, Bill and Sandra. Bill looked like the type who never really got much sleep but thrived off of it. Sandra was rather pretty, the type of woman who probably didn’t have to put much effort into it. But she also looked tired, especially as she looked toward the house.

“I understand you’ve been staying in a motel?” Chloe asked.

“Yes,” Sandra said. “When it happened, Bill was away on business. The cops were coming in and out of the house and there was…well, there was just so much blood. So I picked the kids up from school, took them to dinner, and then took them to a motel. I told them what had happened and it just seemed morbid to come back right away.”

“I got back home yesterday morning,” Bill said. “Around noon or so yesterday, the police gave us the okay to get back into the house. But the kids and Sandra were just too creeped out by it.”

“That might be for the best,” Rhodes said. “We’d like to get a look at the scene, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, the sheriff told us you were coming,” Sandra said. “He instructed us to tell you that there’s a file with all of their information on the kitchen counter.”

“Before we head inside,” Chloe said, “I was wondering if you’d like to tell us a bit about Kim?”

“She was so kind-hearted,” Sandra said.

“And great with the kids,” Bill said. As he said it, there was a waver in his voice. It was as if the full weight of what had happened was only now starting to catch up with him.

“Do you know if she had any bad blood with anyone?” Chloe asked

“Not that we know of,” Sandra said. “We’ve been asking ourselves that for the past two days. It just…it makes absolutely no sense.”

“Any failed relationships?” Rhodes asked. “Maybe an estranged ex-boyfriend or something?”

“She has an ex, sure,” Bill said. “But she rarely mentioned him.”

“But she did mention him?” Chloe asked.

Something akin to understanding flashed in Sandra’s eyes. “You know, she did say how it was something she had to escape. And I don’t think it was a joke. I mean…she never really talked about him.”

“Do you have a name?” Rhodes asked.

“No,” Sandra said. She then looked to Bill for the answer but he only shook his head.

“Did Kim ever stay here?” Rhodes asked.

“Yes. If Bill and I ever went on little mini-vacations, she’d stay. We have a guest bedroom that we always joked was Kim’s. She’d also sometimes just stay overnight on days where the kids had really been struggling with homework or school stuff.”

“Which bedroom is that?” Rhodes asked.

“Upstairs, first one on the left,” Bill said.

“Would you mind just hanging out for a while in case we need to speak with you after we have a look around inside?” Chloe asked.

“We don’t have to come in, do we?” Sandra asked.

“No,” Rhodes said. “You’re welcome to just stay out here.”

Sandra seemed relieved at this. But she still looked at the house as if she were expecting an axe murderer to come barreling out of the front door at any moment.

Both of the Carvers remained in the driveway while Chloe and Rhodes headed for the porch. It was a wraparound porch, complete with a porch swing and two rockers. Chloe opened the front door and they stepped inside.

The local and State PD had done the cleanup, according to Garcia’s reports. And from what Chloe could tell, they’d done a great job of it. Of course, it would have been much easier to get a read on the scene if the evidence was still there—including any blood that had been spilled. Whoever had tasked the bureau with taking on this case apparently had no clue as to how forensics or evidence collection was carried out.

Chloe saw a folder sitting on the kitchen counter—the report and files from the sheriff, she supposed. She walked across the foyer and through the living room to retrieve it. She opened it up, flipping through the basic report and skipping to the crime scene photos. She walked back to the front door to show Rhodes and they both studied the five pictures, comparing it to the now immaculately cleaned scene.

In the pictures, there was blood on the foyer floor, right up to the doorframe. The body of Kim Wielding lay sprawled on the floor, her left foot no more than six inches from the front door. In the second picture, it was very evident that she had been struck in the face with a blunt instrument. Her nose had been partially caved in and the lower half of her face was nothing more than a sheet of blood.

“Safe bet she was answering the door,” Rhodes said.

“Which means she knew the person,” Chloe added. “Or that she had been expecting someone.”

Rhodes took the pictures from the folder, not necessarily snatching them away, but not being polite about it either. “This pisses me off.”

“What does?” Chloe asked.

“This case. A single murder in an upscale neighborhood. With a cleaned murder scene and no direct help from local PD, what the hell can we do?”