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Beside her, Ethan cleared his throat again. “So, uh, what can you tell me about the case?”
She kept her response concise. “Wealthy heiress, drowned in oil. Body found by a neophyte oil worker.”
“No signs of a struggle, though, right?” Ethan glanced at her. “Had to be someone she knew.”
Rachel’s jaw tightened. She wouldn’t speculate, not this early. “We’ll see what the evidence shows.”
Ethan shrugged again but didn’t push further.
Scrub gave way to sun-scorched grass as they turned onto the private road leading to the Beaumont ranch, one of the largest in Texas. Rachel leaned forward, the knot in her gut tightening.
The ranch spread before them, barbed wire fencing stretching to the horizon. A sprawling hacienda rose in the distance, Spanish-style architecture weathered by time and the elements.
Rachel studied the house, a frown making its way into her features. Something about its isolation bothered her, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.
Ethan pulled up beside a line of patrol cars and cut the engine. “Here we are.”
Here they were. Rachel exhaled slowly, steeling herself, and pushed open the sedan door. The Texas sun beat down as she made her way toward the hacienda, a looming silhouette against the cloudless sky.
Rachel approached the front entrance, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape. The heavy oak door creaked open.
Cool darkness enveloped her as she stepped inside. The foyer stretched before them, tiled floors and arched entryways leading to other wings of the house.
“So… they found the body here?” Ethan asked at her side.
She shook her head.
“You’re not very talkative, are you?”
“Not really,” she said. Then, deciding he deserved a bit more, she said, “Madison Beaumont lived alone in the house. They’re using this as a temporary staging area until the coroner gets here.”
“Oh. Huh.” He scratched at a cowlick, trying to smooth his hair, but the stubborn curl bounced right back up. In a way, it made her think of the man himself.
Determinedly good-humored, it seemed. He was still wearing that easy smile.
She pointed toward the white tarp on the ground which had prompted the question.
The body had been brought to the ranch. Due to the heat outside, and the air-conditioning in the ranch, the body had been placed in the main foyer.
In the center of the ornately tiled floor, the body lay draped in a white sheet, a pool of black ink seeping across the tiles. Oil from the corpse.
Rachel’s jaw tightened. No matter how many crime scenes she processed, death never got easier to face.
Ethan hesitated beside her, eyes lingering on the shrouded form. “Guess we found our victim.” His attempt at humor fell flat.
Rachel said nothing as she walked forward, kneeling beside the body. With a gloved hand, she folded back the sheet to reveal the victim’s face.
Pale, lifeless skin. Glassy, unseeing eyes. Oil-stained flesh visible in the ruin of the woman’s temple.
Rachel straightened, scanning the foyer. No signs of a break-in or struggle.
“She wasn’t at work that early,” Rachel said, straightening. She frowned, trying to recall the case file she’d read on the walk to the car outside HQ. “She sleeps alone here, but has security.”
At these words, Ethan glanced up. He pointed. “Eye in the sky.”
Rachel followed his gaze, impressed. Her new partner had a quick eye, apparently. He’d spotted the camera above quite quickly.
Rachel studied the foyer, taking in details with a practiced eye. Polished marble floors. Vaulted ceilings. An ostentatious chandelier dripping with crystals.
