If so, he hadn’t told Haversham about it.
Screw it. I’m going. If he didn’t want me checking on him, he should have answered my calls.
The entire drive to his house, Jane kept telling herself she was overreacting. So what if the ASAC had been too busy to respond to her messages? The guy had his own life. They’d gone out twice and kissed a few times, nothing more. On a personal level, he didn’t really owe her anything.
Yet on a professional note, he should have responded to her right away. Especially about this case.
She drove to his house, parked, and studied the home. Nothing looked out of place. She didn’t sense anyone nearby, hiding in the shadows.
But Matthew hadn’t answered her. She texted him again.
Nothing.
Jane didn’t like it.
She exited the car, popped the trunk, and unlocked her service weapon. She tucked it into her waist holster. Not bothering to hide it or the badge clipped to her belt, she walked across the street and up to Matthew’s unlocked gate.
After a pause, she approached the front door, listening for any hint of movement.
A heavy silence descended, as if the world stopped moving.
She tested the front door, uneasy when the doorknob twisted, unlocked.
Jane pulled out her weapon. “Matthew? It’s Jane. FBI on the scene,” she announced, half teasing.
She moved through the main level and outer patio, finding nothing. Then she quickly cleared the attached garage—where she found his car.
She touched the hood. It was cold. The car hadn’t been driven lately.
He had to be home.
Swiftly climbing the stairs, her gun at the ready, she found his bedrooms, study, and bathrooms also empty.
Which just left the upstairs balcony.
“Matthew, I’m coming up. FBI,” she said in a loud voice, praying not to find anything.
Just some flowers, a pair of chairs, a great view overlooking?—
A body. Unmoving.
Flat on his back on the ground, lying in a pool of blood.
Chapter 40
Jane droppedto her knees and felt for a pulse. But Matthew stared sightlessly at the sky, his eyes clouded, his skin sallow, one hand fisted at his side, as if clutching to a life slipping away.
No,slippedaway.
He had no heartbeat.
Phoning in a call to 9-1-1, she kept the phone on speaker while answering the dispatcher’s questions. Jane didn’t want to believe Matthew could be dead.
She performed CPR, hoping to revive him.
But sheknew.Could see his lifeless body.
Her mind refused to accept it.
