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The first drops of rain started to fall just as I pulled into the driveway at 1822 Monastery Court. It was in one of the older, established neighborhoods in Bloody Mary and only a few minutes from the funeral home.
The bad thing about finding a body in Bloody Mary was the chances were high I would know the person. There were fewer than three thousand people in Bloody Mary and the population had stayed fairly consistent since I was a child.
King George County was divided into four towns—Bloody Mary, Nottingham, Newcastle, and King George Proper. The towns connected at the four corners right in the middle, and that’s where the Towne Square had been built almost three hundred years before. Bloody Mary was in the far quadrant and it backed up to the Potomac River and a national park. It was still mostly farmland, though big developers were trying to change that. So while the rest of King George County was growing by leaps and bounds, Bloody Mary was still fairly contained. At least for now.
Monastery Court was full of old Victorian houses that sat on a couple of acres. There were towering trees and cracks in the sidewalks from the roots. The houses in this area were hard to come by. They were usually passed on from one generation to the next. But if one of the houses did happen to slip through someone’s fingers, it sold quickly and at a premium price.
There were police cars parked in front of a well-kept three-story house with gingerbread trim. It was freshly painted yellow with white trim and burgundy shutters. Despite the fresh paint, it looked as gloomy as the weather. There were ceramic pots on the porch planted with drooping hydrangeas, and the front lawn held pools of water.
Blue and red flashing lights swirled from the police cars, but there were no sirens or signs of any of their drivers. No neighbors stood on porches to see what was going on. I shivered once and zipped up my black coveralls and slipped my feet into my boots, and then I grabbed my medical bag and closed the trunk of my Suburban. I went ahead and pulled out the gurney, knowing the weather would just get worse, and I rolled it up to the big covered porch and lifted it up the stairs.
The front door opened and Jack met me at the threshold. “Thought it would take you longer to get here,” he said. “I figured when you got the call you were still debating whether to eat Tom’s donuts or give in and go to Lady Jane’s.”
I’d known Jack my whole life, and he still had the ability to take my breath away. He was my safe place. My center of stability. And I couldn’t imagine my world without him in it. By the time he’d hit his freshman year in high school, he’d finally grown into his feet, as his mother used to say. He was well over six feet, though he hadn’t filled out in the shoulders until his early twenties. And filled out nicely he had.
No matter what stage of life, Jack had always had movie star good looks—he was the kid everyone liked and gravitated toward. He was Mr. Popular and captain of the football team. Once he’d progressed into manhood he’d left being simply good looking behind and moved into devastatingly handsome.
I’d helped relieve him of the moniker of perfection by giving him the thin scar that slashed through his eyebrow. No matter how he told the story, the truth was, if he hadn’t been blocking home plate, my cleat never would have made contact with his face. So he really has no one to blame for his imperfection but himself. Other than that, he’d been put together by God himself.
Jack’s dark hair was a little longer than he usually kept it, but only because he hadn’t had time to get a haircut, and he had a few days’ growth of stubble on his face. His muscles were honed from the years he’d spent on SWAT in DC. And much to my personal satisfaction, he still kept up his fitness routine.
I narrowed my eyes as I walked past him, leaving the gurney on the porch for now. “That charming smile might work on others, but be careful. I’m feeling kind of mean. I still haven’t had my coffee and I threw away the donuts so Chen wouldn’t judge me. I was on my way to the sheriff’s office to filch some Lady Jane’s from the breakroom when I got the call from dispatch.”
Jack laughed and said, “We’re a no-judgment operation. Especially Chen. At least not out loud. She’s a silent judger.”
“She wasn’t silent today,” I said, rolling my eyes. I looked around and let first impressions of the house wash over me. “Nice place.”
A staircase with ornate spindles was the first thing that drew the eye, followed by a massive crystal chandelier hanging overhead. Everything was very traditional in style, and the hardwood floors looked original. “You going to tell me why I’m here?”
“The emergency operator got a call this morning from Lydia Hargrove,” Jack said. “Said she went to the store and when she got back she found Steve dead in his study.”
“No,” I said, eyes wide. “Not Coach Hargrove. He’s not even that old. Poor Mrs. Hargrove.”
Mrs. Hargrove had been Jack’s and my first-grade teacher. And then we’d both had Coach Hargrove when we’d gotten into high school. He’d been Jack’s football coach and my history teacher. Everyone knew them, and they were well loved.
“Where’s the study?” I asked, dreading what was to come. It was always much harder when you knew the dead on a personal level.
“Behind the stairs,” Jack said, putting his hand on my shoulder before I could move forward.
Then I remembered what Chen said about the scene being a messy one. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m not telling you anything until you get a good look,” Jack said. “We’ll follow procedure just like we do for every unattended death.”
“Oh, man,” I said, dreading it even more. “Where is everyone?”
“Plank took the call,” Jack said, his mouth tight. “Mrs. Hargrove was waiting on the porch when he arrived and told him where to find the study. She didn’t want to go back in the house.
“Plank followed standard operating procedure and confirmed the deceased. Unfortunately, he didn’t pay attention as he approached the body, so he called for backup and waited for them to arrive so he could leave and change clothes.”
“Yikes,” I said. “You’re really selling this one. Can’t wait to get in there.”
Jack winced and gave me a tight smile. “Martinez and Riley responded to Plank’s call and they’re doing door-to-doors to see if anyone saw or heard anything. And Mrs. Hargrove is in the kitchen with Walters. We finally got her to come back inside by taking her around to the back of the house. Plank got back a few minutes ago and is helping Martinez and Riley with the neighbors.”
I smelled it before we reached the study. There was a particular smell to death in general, but the scent of blood was rich and coppery and clung to the back of your throat so you could almost taste it.
There was crime scene tape across the door so no one disturbed the area, and Jack pulled down the yellow tape and then took a black umbrella that had been propped against the wall. Then he opened the door.
“You’ve already done a walk-through?” I asked, looking up at the ceiling.
