I wouldn’t classify Spizer’s house as a mansion, but it was pretty damn close. The patrol officers were waiting outside as we had requested.
“We asked Mrs. Spizer if there was anyone we could notify for her and she asked us to call her sister.” The officer ripped out a piece of paper from his notepad. “Here’s the sister’s address and phone number in case you need to talk to Mrs. Spizer.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
The task force had put on protective gear before we entered the house to avoid contamination. We walked into a foyer of gleaming hardwood floors that shone beneath the crystals and lights in the chandelier. We followed the sounds of whirling cameras and murmured voices to the crime scene.
I knocked on the doorframe of the study, and all eyes turned to us. “Can we come in?” I asked. The M.E. would be running the show until the body was cleared, but I wanted to be able to see the scene with my own eyes before that happened.
“Come on in,” the M.E. said. He introduced himself as Miguel Espinoza then identified the rest of the men and women in the room that were processing the scene.
“I’m not looking to get in your way, Dr. Espinoza. I’d just like to get a feel for the crime scene myself instead of looking at pictures of it.”
“I understand, Detective. We’re almost done here. I saw the letter on the desk beneath Spizer’s head.” He had slumped over in his chair the same way that Robertson had, but the trajectory of the bullet was completely wrong. Spizer put the barrel of the gun beneath his chin and pulled the trigger. He fell forward and pinned the hand holding the gun beneath his chest.
“Have you looked at the gun? Is it a forty-five?” I asked. He confirmed that it was and I asked him to compare the entrance and exit wounds to those of Owen Smithson and promised to make sure he got copies of Turner’s and Robertson’s autopsy files and photos. “I’d like to wrap this all up in a tidy bow, but I am going to be sure that every avenue is investigated.”
I stayed out of their way and looked around the room at the photos hanging on the wall or sitting in frames on his shelf. The gilded gold, marble, and crystal wet bar that stood in the corner of the room probably cost more than my car. I took photos so that I could compare them to crime scene photos later.
It didn’t take the medical examiner long to finish and remove Spizer from his office. Then I got my first look at the apparent suicide note he left addressed to his wife. Like the officer said, Spizer took responsibility for the deaths of the three men. What it didn’t say was why he did it. He told her how much he loved her and apologized for ruining her life. As much as I hated to be the one to show the note to Mrs. Spizer, I needed her to confirm it was his handwriting.
A handwriting specialist would be able to determine if the note was written under duress. Some signs of fear, shame, or anguish was expected, but it would be exacerbated if someone had a gun pointed at their heads while they wrote. That wasifwe got the approval to hire an expert.
There was a picture on the corner of his desk that caught my eye. It was a picture of a boys’ baseball team; the kids in the picture looked to be between the ages of ten and twelve. Something about the picture stood out to me, but I couldn’t place it. I snapped a picture of it with my phone, so I could look at it later.
I wanted to believe that the cases were over and solved, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t. I placed a call to Silver, but it went to his voicemail like usual. He might’ve gone to the club to stay busy rather than sit around and wait for me to call. I left him a message and told him he could call me whenever he wanted. I wouldn’t say that I liked the man, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad for him. I didn’t know his story, but I had a feeling that it probably wasn’t a happy one.
Dorchester and I said very little on the way home. It seemed that we were both lost in our thoughts. I dropped him off at his house then headed home to Josh. I could tell that he wasn’t home by the lights he had left on, even though his car was parked in the driveway. I wondered where he’d gone on foot so late. I looked suspiciously over at Emory’s house and wondered if he’d gone over there since they’d gotten chummy. I realized I was being ridiculous and called his cellphone number.
“Hey, baby,” he said into the phone. “How’s it going?” I heard Adrian and Sally Ann in the background laughing about something; I knew just where I could find my guy.
“It’s better now,” I said into the phone. “How was your day?” I backed out of the driveway and drove the seven blocks to the Goodes’ house while Josh told me about his confrontation with Chaz. “But you guys are okay now, right?” I asked.
“We sure are,” Josh replied. “Do you have any idea what time you’ll be home?”
“That depends.” I parked the car and got out.
“On?” he asked hesitantly.
“How late we stay at Adrian and Sally Ann’s before I take you home.” I knocked on the front door and heard Josh gasp seconds before Buddy barked. Josh yanked open the front door and jumped me right there on the front porch. “I’m happy to see you too, Sunshine.”
Josh visibly melted in front of me and I realized he had been tense with worry, probably the reason he was at the Goodes’. “Have you eaten?” he asked, ready to nurture and fuss over me. I freely admit that I liked it.
“I had a few slices of shitty pizza before everything went to hell,” I told him.
“Sally Ann made a delicious chicken dish that you’ll love. There’s plenty leftover so I’ll reheat some and make you a plate while you chat with Adrian. I’m sure you guys want to go into his office and talk shop anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. Josh handed me a beer and shooed me out of the kitchen. “Meet me back here in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” I said over my shoulder as I followed Adrian to the smallest of the extra bedrooms where he had an office.
“Tell me what happened, partner. You’re looking a little rough,” Adrian told me.
He didn’t say anything until I’d told him every detail of my night. “I don’t know, Adrian. My gut tells me that this isn’t over with Spizer’s death. I’m not willing to just say that he was the shooter and close the cases. Something about the scene is nagging at me to keep digging.”
“Then you keep digging,” Adrian said.
“Dinner!” Josh’s call to eat cracked me up. He ran a tight ship when it came to eating and my fifteen minutes had clearly passed.
I entered the dining room and took a seat. Sally Ann and Adrian were talking, but I had no idea what they were saying because I only had eyes for Josh. He set my plate of food on the table in front of me and moved to step away so I could eat. I snatched his wrist and tugged his arm so that he leaned down. I raised my head for a kiss, and he obliged me. The tension from the events of that night still had me strung tight, but I could feel the strain starting to fade in small increments.
