A uniformed officer met them at the area where the sidewalk branched off—the primary one leading to the front door of the home, the other leading to the addition. "Agents, the body is in the back office. Detective Romero is already inside."
They followed him through the house, passing a living room with comfortable furniture and family photos on the mantel. The hallway led them past a kitchen and two bedrooms before opening into what had clearly been designed as a separate workspace. The home office occupied the entire back corner of the house, a large room with windows on two walls that would have provided plenty of natural light during the day. Now, with the sun starting to set, crime scene lights had been set up to illuminate every detail.
Susan Hayes lay across her desk with blood still trickling down the sides.
Kate stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene. Hayes was positioned face-up, her torso draped backward over the desk surface, arms hanging down on either side. Her head tilted back at an unnatural angle, and Kate could see the wound in her throat immediately. The letter opener protruded from the right side of Hayes's neck, buried to the hilt. Blood had pooled beneath her head and soaked into the papers scattered across the desk surface. More blood had dripped down the front of the desk and onto the carpet below.
The positioning was deliberate and grotesque. Hayes had been placed to be seen, displayed like some macabre art installation. Her eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. She wore black slacks and a burgundy blouse, now stained dark with blood. Her brown hair was cut in a shoulder-length bob, and reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck.
"Jesus," Sloane said quietly beside Kate.
Detective Romero stood near the body, speaking with a crime scene technician. He looked up when Kate and Sloane entered. "Agents. This one's uh… well, this is worse than the others."
Kate moved closer, studying the wound. "Throat instead of the back. Why the change?"
"Maybe the killer wanted her to see it coming," Romero suggested. "Or maybe she fought back, and the killer had to improvise. That's my theory."
Kate examined Hayes's hands. The knuckles were scraped, and there were defensive wounds on her palms—one slash mark that nearly took off her pinky. "She definitely fought. Any sign of forced entry?"
"None. The back door to the office was unlocked when we arrived. A client found her about an hour ago when they arrived for an appointment.”
“Does she have a husband?”
“Yes, but he’s travelling for work. A detective called him; he’s in London right now, trying to get home as quickly as possible.”
"Same setup as the others. The letter opener has her name engraved on it, and it appears to be a gift or recognition item."
"You took it out?" Sloane asked, nearly shouting.
“No. But if you looked close enough, you can just barely see the e and the s along the edge right near the hilt.”
Kate bent down to look at the letter opener without touching it. The handle was silver-plated, and even with the blood, she could make out the letters—es. The last two letters inHayes.The blade was longer than the others had been, perhaps six inches, and had been driven in with considerable force.
“Where’s the client who found the body?” Sloane asked.
“On her way to the hospital. She passed out and hit the floor pretty hard before anyone could catch her. When I talked to her, she said there was no one else here. No car in the driveway, no one around… nothing.”
Sloane nodded, and together, she and Kate started to take inventory of the office. The office itself was professionally decorated but personal. One wall held a bookshelf filled with business texts and framed certificates. Susan's credentials were displayed prominently: an MBA from Virginia Commonwealth University, several professional certifications, and a large frame that held what looked like a newspaper article about her consulting business. The desk was a heavy wooden piece, probably oak, with a leather chair behind it and two smaller chairs for clients positioned in front.
A laptop sat open on the desk, its screen dark now but likely active when the attack occurred. Papers were scatteredeverywhere, some soaked with blood, others knocked to the floor during the struggle. A coffee mug had tipped over, creating a brown stain that mixed with the blood. But from the smell of it, she’d been having tea rather than coffee. Something with a lavender scent.
Kate walked around the desk, careful not to disturb any evidence. The windows behind the desk looked out onto a small, fenced backyard. The blinds were partially open, suggesting Hayes hadn't felt the need to close them during the day. A security doorbell camera was mounted beside the office entrance, its small light blinking steadily.
Sloane had moved to examine the doorbell camera. She turned to one of the uniformed officers near the door. "Can someone access the footage from this? We need to see who came and went today."
The officer nodded. "We already have someone on it. We should have the footage within the hour."
Kate continued her circuit of the room. Near the bookshelf, she noticed a small table with promotional materials for Hayes Consulting. Business cards, brochures, and what looked like client intake forms were neatly organized in plastic holders. One brochure caught her attention because it featured a group photo. Kate recognized several faces from the Second Act Success website, including Susan Hayes herself, standing among other graduates.
She was about to move on, when Sloane spoke up from across the room. "I know her face."
Kate turned. "Susan Hayes?"
"Yeah, but not from the website we looked at earlier." Sloane had pulled out her phone and was scrolling through something. "I've seen her in one of the promotional videos for Second Act Success. Not the recent one, but an older video I watched last night. Let me find it."
Kate walked over to stand beside Sloane, watching as she navigated to YouTube and pulled up the Second Act Success channel. There were dozens of videos, ranging from recent uploads to content from several years ago. Sloane scrolled down, scanning the thumbnails.
"Here," Sloane said, clicking on a video titled "Second Act Success: Three Years of Transforming Lives." The upload date showed it was from fifteen months ago.
