They followed Detective Martinez through the front door and into Goldberg's house, their footsteps echoing against the marble floors. The interior was impressive, with tall ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that must have provided spectacular views during daylight hours. Expensive artwork hung on the walls, and the furniture reflected the kind of understated luxury that only serious money could buy.
But Miles barely registered these details as they approached the living room; his attention was completely captured by what lay at its center.
David Goldberg sat on his expensive leather couch, positioned to face the large windows that overlooked his backyard. Every visible inch of his body gleamed with gold leaf, applied with the same meticulous precision they'd seen in the previous murders. His face maintained a peaceful expression, asif he were simply enjoying the view of his night-shrouded garden rather than serving as the centerpiece of an elaborate murder display. The positioning was different from the previous crime scenes, but the methodology was unmistakably the same. The killer had transformed Goldberg into a golden statue, a piece of living art that commented on his wealth while simultaneously ending his life. The irony was stark and deliberate—a man who had spent his career manipulating money for profit had been literally covered in gold.
Miles had seen crime scene photographs of the previous murders, had studied the evidence, and analyzed the chemical signatures. But witnessing the killer's work firsthand was profoundly different. There was something deeply unsettling about seeing a human being transformed into an object of beauty and horror, something that challenged his understanding of the boundary between art and violence. It was jarring in a way he had not expected.
Miles found himself staring into Goldberg's gold-covered face, looking for some trace of the person who had once inhabited that transformed body.
"Jesus," he said quietly, the word escaping before he could stop it.
"Yeah," Vic replied, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen similar horrors before. "It never gets easier."
The crime scene technicians moved around them with professional efficiency, documenting every aspect of the killer's work while maintaining the careful protocols that would preserve evidence for later analysis. But Miles found it difficult to focus on the procedural aspects of the investigation while confronted with the stark reality of what their killer was capable of.
This wasn't just murder—it was transformation, the deliberate conversion of a human being into something elseentirely. The killer wasn't simply ending lives; they were making statements, creating messages that used death as a medium for artistic expression. He seemed to be taking great pleasure and pride in his work.
"Agent Stone?" Detective Martinez approached them as they studied the scene. "Jessica Breeding is stable enough to talk if you want to interview her now. She might have information about Goldberg's recent activities or anyone who might have had access to the house."
Miles welcomed the opportunity to step away from the golden figure on the couch, to focus on the investigative process rather than the psychological impact of the killer's work. They needed to understand how the killer had gained access to Goldberg's house, how they'd managed to overpower him, and whether Breeding had observed anything unusual in the days leading up to the murder.
But as they prepared to leave the living room, Miles found it far too hard to take his eyes away Goldberg's golden body. And as he forced his gaze away, he was overcome by the growing certainty that they were dealing with someone whose motivations went far beyond simple revenge or financial gain.
They were dealing with something much darker…and Miles wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such a thing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jessica Breeding was wrapped in a police-issued blanket on the front porch steps, her long, dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders as she stared blankly at the street. When they approached her, Miles could see that she'd been dressed seductively when she'd arrived at Goldberg's house. Her black dress was short and form-fitting, made from some kind of clingy material that left little to the imagination. Over it, she wore a leather jacket that looked expensive but impractical for San Francisco's morning fog. Her heels lay discarded beside the steps.
It was clear why she’d come so late at night…but those plans had never come to pass.
Vic approached her, settling onto the steps beside Jessica while maintaining a respectful distance. "Ms. Breeding? I'm Special Agent Stone with the FBI, and this is Dr. Sterling. We'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight."
Jessica looked up with eyes that were red-rimmed but alert. If she’d been in shock before, it was beginning to give way to a dazed sort of focused attention. "I've already told the police everything I know. I came over around 2:30, used my key to get in, and found David like that." Her voice carried a slight tremor, but she seemed determined to be helpful.
"We understand this is difficult," Miles said, settling onto the step below them. He was starting to feel a bit more comfortable around Vic now and assumed she had no issue with him assisting in this way. "But we're hoping you might be able to provide some details about David's recent activities or anyone who might have had access to his house."
Jessica wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself. "David and I weren't in a serious relationship. We met at acharity event about four months ago, and we've been seeing each other casually since then. Usually a couple times a week, sometimes more."
"Did he give anyone else keys to the house?" Vic asked.
"I don't think so. He was pretty private about his personal life, especially after his divorce. He said I was the only person he trusted enough to have that kind of access." Jessica paused, her expression growing more troubled. "He was always careful about security. The fact that someone got in without triggering his alarm system...I don't understand how that could have happened."
Miles exchanged a glance with Vic, both of them noting the implication that the killer had somehow bypassed what was presumably a sophisticated security system. That suggested either technical expertise or inside knowledge that narrowed their suspect pool considerably. It was both daunting and a slight source of hope all at once.
"Do you know if David had any enemies?" Vic continued. "Anyone who might have threatened him or expressed anger about his business dealings?"
Jessica initially shook her head, but then paused as if reconsidering the question. "Not enemies exactly, but... his business wasn't always something I was comfortable with."
"What do you mean?"
"David was involved in real estate development, which I knew about. I mean, he’s sort of a power player in this area. But he also ran this lending operation that I found pretty disturbing." Jessica's voice took on a note of distaste. "I don’t think anyone really knew about it. He would target elderly homeowners, people who were struggling financially, and offer them loans against their homes with terms that were...well, they were designed to be impossible to meet."
Miles felt his pulse quicken. Something like what he was hearing would certainly create a few enemies. "Predatory lending schemes?"
"Exactly. The interest rates were technically legal, but they were structured so that the borrowers would default within a year or two. Then David's company would foreclose and take possession of properties worth far more than the original loans." Jessica looked down at her hands. "I told him it was disgusting, but the money it was bringing in was crazy. He was making millions off of people who were desperate and didn't understand what they were signing. And he honestly didn’t even have to put all that much work into it."
"But you continued seeing him," Vic observed without judgment.
