Karen nodded and led the way.As they walked up the path, Jessie couldn’t help but admire the Craftsman-style house.Even though it was a fairly modest, one-story home, Jessie knew that was deceptive.
The place, like many in this historic neighborhood, could have been as much as 130 years old.But it was in pristine condition, not a shocker considering how much of a priority a realtor like Mitchell would put on maintaining it.Jessie guessed it was worth at least $3 million.
They took the steps to the porch, where an officer stood guard.Karen must have already flashed her badge and ID because he let them inside without asking for anything.The detective led her from the foyer down a long hallway that split into a “Y.”Jessie saw that one direction led to the kitchen.Karen went the other way, into the expansive living room.
Jessie knew where Lauren Mitchell was based on the crowd surrounding her off to the right.For now, she ignored that, choosing to look elsewhere for clues before the enormity of the murder consumed all her attention.
But there wasn’t much to see.Nothing in the room looked askance.No broken vases.No family photos knocked off the mantle.No overturned coffee tables.It seemed that Mitchell never even had a chance to fight back.
“What’s that smell?”she asked, noting the distinct scent of paprika and tomato sauce.
“There was dinner on the kitchen counter,” Karen said.“Some kind of bean casserole or something.”
“Okay.”Jessie said quietly.“Let’s go see her.”
Karen nodded and took the lead.As they approached, the crime scene folks all stepped aside to let them pass.Jessie stopped and looked down at the woman, who was lying on her back.
She guessed that Lauren wasn’t much older than her, likely in her early thirties.She had medium-length brown hair and matching eyes, which were currently wide open.She was dressed in a t-shirt and yoga pants.That, along with the meal on the counter, suggested that she’d been home long enough to change and get comfortable for the evening.
But she wasn’t comfortable.Along with the vacant eyes and the facial bruising that Karen had mentioned, her throat had been cut clean across.Blood formed a pool that surrounded her upper body and had flowed across the hardwood floors and under the nearby sofa.
Jessie felt a new tension rise in her chest.But unlike before, she welcomed it in and let it stay.This time, it wasn’t the vengeful desire to eliminate whoever had done this.Rather, it was the impotent rage that came from knowing she might not be able to find the person responsible.That fury both fueled her and filled her with self-doubt.She had to bring Lauren Mitchell justice, but wasn’t sure she could.
She looked up at Karen.
“Let’s talk to the husband.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“You ready?”Karen asked her as she put her hand on the handle to the door of the study.
Jessie wasn’t sure that she was.But she knew the first step to getting answers was to talk to Jason Mannix.Determining whether he was simply a witness or something more sinister was step one in solving Lauren’s murder.She nodded for Karen to go ahead.
The detective opened the door.Once Jessie stepped inside she took note of a uniformed officer standing by the large window of the study which overlooked the backyard.The officer looked deeply uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.
Seated at the large desk at the back of the room was a man with his elbows propped on the desk and his head in his hands.Jessie couldn’t see his face but he was dressed in a button-down dress shirt and a casual sport coat.His thick brown hair was cut short.
“Mr.Mannix?”Karen said gently.
The man looked up.Jessie was caught off guard by how attractive he was, even with his brown eyes puffy and tinged with red.His face was lightly tanned and his square jaw looked like something out of a superhero movie.She guessed that he was in his mid-30s.
“Yes?”he said, his voice a little hoarse.
“I’m Detective Bray,” she told him, moving into the room.“And this is Jessie Hunt.We’re very sorry for your loss.”
He removed his face from his hands and cleared his throat.
“Thank you,” he said.His voice was still soft but less raspy now.
“We’re investigating your wife’s death.We’re committed to catching whoever did this to her.And we’re hoping you can help us.”
Mannix sighed, as if the idea of doing much of anything, much less helping with his wife’s murder investigation, was too daunting to think about.Jessie was primed to suspect the guy, as one always should with the husband of a dead wife.But she had to admit that Mannix had an almost tangible aura of grief emanating off him.
“How?”he asked.
“Any information you can share could be useful.Do you mind if we ask a few questions?”
“No,” he said, slumping back into his chair.
