Nikki and the officers regarded her. “No, ma’am,” said one of the officers. “Not by us, but we’ve had some traffic through here.”
Simone walked into the garage. She was alone, the garage door was closed. She hurried to the car and removed the tracker. As she shoved it into her handbag, the door to the garage opened and Detective Blake Hull walked in.
“Joelle James, right? We just met back at the station. What are you doing out here?”
Simone brushed past him. “Same thing you are, looking for evidence.”
“Actually, I was following you,” he said.
She stepped into the house, turned back. “Why?”
“I thought maybe we could have coffee, or a drink, and discuss the case.”
“No, but thanks.” His smile dropped as she walked back inside.
That was close.
Back in Newburg’s office, she eyed the short stack of papers on his desk. There was nothing that would answer her question about whether he was left or right handed.
A piercing scream from the foyer had her hurrying out of the room. The woman from the photo—Newburg’s girlfriend, Trish Henderson—was being consoled by Nikki.
“I want to see him!”
“Ms. Benderson,” Nikki said, “let’s sit down.”
“Tell me what happened!” Trish protested. “Who killed him? Who would do this to him?” Tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Was Mr. Newburg under a lot of stress at work?” Nikki asked.
“Just the usual job stress. We were talking about taking a cruise in January.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Do you have any reason to think he would commit suicide?” Nikki asked.
Shock filled Trish’s face. “Suicide? Are you kidding me? He would never kill himself. Why would you even ask that?”
“Ms. Benderson, Joelle James, FBI. I’m very sorry for your loss. Was Mr. Newburg left or right handed?”
“Left, why?”
There it is.
“We’re just being thorough in our investigation.” Simone stepped away, asked Nikki if she could speak to her for a quick second.
Nikki asked one of the female officers to sit with Ms. Benderson, then followed Simone into the home office where Newburg’s body had been covered with a sheet.
Simone pulled back the cloth. “Entry wound on the right side of his head, gun laying by his right hand.”
Nikki’s slid her gaze from Newburg to Simone. “She just told us he’s left handed.”
“There are two lists on his kitchen counter,” Simone said. “The pen is on the left side of those lists.”
They returned to the kitchen. Nikki stared down at the papers, along with the pen. “Nice work, Joelle.”
“Newburg was murdered, just like Chenkus,” Simone said to Nikki. “Someone has a short fuse. There’s no room for mistakes, no room for pushing back. If someone steps out of line, they’re dead.”
She thought about the sign on her front door.
BOOM!
