Her Last Breath, page 4
Sure enough, that was the exact smell they walked into as they reached the garage. It was very faint, but most definitely there. An outline on the floor, done in forensics tape, showed where Emma Stern’s body had been discovered. But the most telling feature of the room was the opened panel box on the wall to their right. The door was open, revealing the mostly fried interior. As Rachel stepped forward to observe it closer, she saw that some of the framing had melted around the edges. She tried to imagine the pain it would have caused and recalled what Anderson had said about this killer. He was right; someone like this would be brutal and unpredictable.
“We’re assuming the power had been killed when Emma arrived home,” Liang said. “All of the digital clocks inside—the microwave, stove, her alarm clock in the bedroom—were all blinking. And when her body was found, the flashlight on her phone was turned on.”
Rachel looked at the shape the tape made on the concrete floor and then looked at the control panel. “Looks like she would have been just short enough for her face to go right into it, yes?”
“Yeah. I’m still waiting on photos from the coroner. I can pass them along if you want.”
“No hairs, prints, nothing?”
“Not a thing. As a matter of fact,” Liang said, nodding to a partially opened door in the front of the room, along the wall behind them, “forensics found traces of diluted cornstarch on the doorknob to the water heater closet.”
“So the killer was using latex gloves,” Jack said.
“Seems that way,” Liang confirmed. “And it also suggests that he was hiding in that closet while he waited for her to get home.”
Rachel walked to the front right corner of the garage, where the water heater was located. She pulled the door open and looked inside. Among the standard water heater, there were a few random items typically found in a garage: a folded-up lawn chair, a beach umbrella, a few jugs of bleach. In the midst of all of that, there was more than enough room for a man to hide.
“A single, young woman living in a home this size, in a neighborhood this expensive,” Rachel said. “Any idea how long she’d lived here?”
“I don’t know,” Liang said. “The neighbors have been questioned, too, though, and they confirm that the power at their homes never went out last night. The neighboring family to the left mentioned how Emma brought them Christmas cookies the last few years, so I’d guess maybe at least two years.”
Rachel walked to the small garage opener device along the front wall. She pressed the single button on the device and the garage door let out a thump as it began to rise, rolling up on the tracks installed along the ceiling. As it rose, the light drizzle of rain and the blustery late morning outside was revealed.
She walked to the frame of the large, rectangular doorway and spotted the manual garage door opener on the front edge. It was a gray box, roughly six inches tall. There was flip lid on it, which Rachel lifted up to reveal the number pad beneath. “I assume this was checked for prints?”
“It was. And there was nothing.”
“How about the first victim?” Jack asked. “Do you have any new information that might provide links?”
“Nothing,” Liang said, clearly annoyed by the lack of answers. “Based on the preliminary information we have, there seems to be no friends and family connection. They could technically both be labeled as working under the umbrella of law enforcement, but that’s a stretch.”
Rachel recalled what she’d read about the first victim, a man named Dylan Tharpe. He’d worked as a corrections officer in a Maryland prison. As for Emma Stern, she’d worked as an assistant and secretary at the governor’s office. Liang was right; they could potentially be seen as working within the same industry, but their roles and positions were so far apart that it seemed like an unlikely link.
Rachel looked back into the garage, thinking it all over. Her eyes once again went to the taped shape on the floor when she asked, “Who discovered Emma Stern’s body?”
“The husband of the neighbors to the right. The Gaughans.”
“Any idea if they’re home?”
“I believe so. The wife was out on the porch just as I arrived.”
Rachel knew this was where they needed to go. If there were no clues or prints that had been left behind by the killer, the next obvious step was to talk to whomever saw the body first after the murder. And though her experience told her that neighbors often made unreliable witnesses, she hoped the small amount of time that had passed might play in their favor.
Rachel and Jack excused themselves, leaving through the still-opened garage door. Walking through the lightly falling rain, Rachel realized just how close the houses were; no more than thirty feet separated them. So with a distant hope that maybe this time the neighbor would turn out to be helpful, they made their way to the Gaughans’ front door and knocked.
CHAPTER FIVE
As Rachel knocked on the Gaughans’ front door, Jack realized that she looked a bit more vibrant than she had in the last few days. Her mood seemed better and there was a spark to her that had been there before, but had disappeared in light of her cancer diagnosis. He had a theory that the mere act of setting up the appointment with Dr. Emerson had given her a little ray of hope. And maybe she didn’t even realize it, but he certainly did, and he could only hope it was an indicator of things to come.
But he also knew not to mention it, not to draw attention to it. The last thing he wanted was for her to discuss this and then, just like Rachel usually did, overthink it and analyze it to death. No, he’d just enjoy her better mood and the overall better vibe while she still had it. Deep down, he also wanted to think that the recent little spike in their relationship might have something to do with it. There was something else there, something that he thought was pretty close to romance but wore a very different face. That was another thing he didn’t care mention out loud, out of fear of Rachel’s over-analyzations.
After several moment, the door was finally answered by an older man. He was wearing a light sweater, khakis, and a rather stylish driver’s cap. If not for the rain, Jack might have thought he was headed out for a round of golf.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
Jack showed his badge, Rachel doing the same about a second later. “Agents River and Gift, FBI. We understand you’re the gentleman that discovered your neighbor’s body, is that right?”
A grim expression crossed Mr. Gaughan’s face as he nodded. “Yeah, that would be me.”
“We’d like to ask you just a few questions, if that’s okay.”
“Sure thing,” he said, though his tone indicated that this was about the last thing he wanted to do. “Come on in.”
Mr. Gaughan shuffled back into the house, not bothering to turn to see how close the agents were behind him. The interior was of a similar design to Emma Stern’s home, the foyer, living room, and kitchen set up in the same order and flow. There was a stale feeling in the air and the faintest scent of dust and old food. It made Jack think that Mr. Gaughan lived alone.
Mr. Gaughan led them into the living room where he sat down in an armchair that showed years of use. He gestured absently to the small couch on the other side of the room. Rachel grinned at the old man and took a seat, but Jack remained on his feet.
“Mr. Gaughan,” he said, “I’m curious to know what caused you to even end up in Ms. Stern’s home last night in the first place.”
“Yeah, that was one of the first things the cops asked me after I called it in,” he said. “Seems a little ungrateful if you ask me, but I guess it is what it is. I was sitting right here, in this very chair when I heard a peculiar popping noise. Almost like a tiny explosion. I had just cut the TV off; if it had still been on, I don’t know if I would have heard it. At first, I thought it was the TV. But then I heard it again, a bit quieter this time. I didn’t think much of it, really. But then when I was settling in for bed, I noticed something a bit off. From my bedroom, even with the blinds closed, I can usually see the glow of Emma’s security light. But it wasn’t there last night. So I got curious and peeked out through the blinds. I saw that it wasn’t just her security lights in the back, but her entire house. No lights, no power. It got me to thinking about those pops I’d heard. I figured maybe something had gone wrong over there with her electricity. So I called her up but she never answered. I got a little worried, maybe a little nosy, and I walked over there. She didn’t answer the door so I decided to go in through the garage. I had to go back to my house to get the garage door code; she gave it to me a few months ago when she was out of town and wanted me to water her plants. I told myself I’d go over there and check the garage. If the circuit box was in order, I’d leave it alone and if I didn’t hear from her by the morning, I’d just call the cops.
“But when I got into the garage, there she was. On the floor, dead. Eyes wide open and…Jesus, it was bad. Some of the skin on her face had gone black and her eyebrows were…they were crispy, you know?” He shook his head and let out a deep, shaky sigh. “Sorry. It’s still pretty fresh. It was pretty awful to have to see it.”
An uncomfortable silence sat heavy in the living room, a silence that Rachel ended with a follow-up question. “Do you have any idea how much time passed between the popping noises you heard and your discovery of the body?”
“About an hour and a half, I’d say.”
“And you called the police right away?” Jack said.
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you see anyone coming or going from her house at any point during the afternoon?”
“I didn’t, but that’s really not saying much. Other than heading out to the library around lunchtime, I was in the house all day yesterday.” He paused thoughtfully and said, “I wish I’d known what that pop was. The police say it was very likely an electrical charge of some kind from when she was smashed into that circuit box. Maybe if I’d put two and two together then…looked out to check on things, I might have seen whoever did it.”
“There’s no way you could have known,” Rachel said.
“Mr. Gaughan,” Jack said, “you told us that Emma had you go over to water her plants on one occasion. Was that just a neighbor reaching out to a neighbor for some assistance, or was there a friendship between the two of you?”
“Oh, I think it might be a stretch to call us friends, but we were on good terms. Not very close, but we had a few worthwhile conversations on the street or across the yards whenever we happened to be outside at the same time.”
“Did she ever mention any strained relationships she might have had?” Rachel asked. “Maybe arguments with friends or colleagues that she seemed upset about?”
“Nothing like that. She did sometimes tell me about how stressful her job could be. Se would sometimes joke about how I’d need to come over and have a few glasses of wine with her after she’d had a particularly stressful day.”
“She ever mention any names when she would talk about these bad days?” Jack asked.
“If she did, they went right in one ear and out the other.” He frowned sadly at them, as if apologizing. “Besides, something like this…to do something this vicious to a sweet, kind girl like Emma…I can’t think of a single person that would have that sort of mean streak in them, you know?”
“Is there anything at all you could tell us about Emma that might not have seemed important enough to share as part of a police investigation?” Rachel asked.
As Mr. Gaughan thought about this, Jack couldn’t help but smile at Rachel. He sometimes forgot just how unique her line of thinking could be. He’d heard her ask similar questions in the past. The question was remarkably pointed without seeming as such. And more often than not, it would reveal something significant buried in the mundane.
“I believe she liked classical music,” he finally said. “I’d sometimes catch her out on her patio, just reading and listening to things like Bach, Beethoven, things of that nature. And I don’t think she ever cursed. Of course, that could have just been her being polite around an older man, but I never heard her say a single curse word. She was exceptionally kind and always offered me a smile even when I could tell the day had been hard on her.”
He wiped a tear away from the rim of his left eye before it had a chance to fall.
“I really hope you find who did this,” Mr. Gaughan said. “Emma didn’t deserve this. No one deserves what I saw.”
To Jack, this was pretty much the equivalent of ending the conversation. The older man was starting to get emotional and it was clear that if he did have anything worthwhile to offer, he would have given it right away. He looked to Rachel and she gave him a nod towards the front door.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Gaughan,” Jack said. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and plucked out one of his cards. Handing it to Mr. Gaughan, he said, “Please call me if you happen to think of anything at all that might help. or if you see people that aren’t the police snooping around Emma’s house.”
Mr. Gaughan took the card. “I will. Best of luck to you both.”
He got out of his chair and walked them to the door without saying another word. Jack almost felt bad for visiting; it seemed like they had basically found a wound and poked at it for little reason. Still, he politely stood at the door as they made their way back out into the sprinkling rain which was starting to let up completely.
“Next steps?” Jack asked, knowing the smart move was to either visit the coroner to get a fresh look at Emma Stern, or to travel to where the first victim was killed. But he knew Rachel like a book he’d read many times, knowing that she always preferred to stick with the most recent victim as long as it made sense to do so—until there were no real leads or clues down that road.
“Coroner’s office,” she said as she opened the passenger side door. “Maybe there will be something to find other than electrocution.”
Jack got behind the wheel and started the engine. Before pulling off, he looked over to her and gave her a studying glance. “How are you feeling?”
Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes playfully. After a beat, though, she smiled and said, “I’m actually feeling great—all things considered. Maybe the best I have in a few weeks.”
For the first time since her diagnosis, Jack believed her. And though it made him feel like a fool, he couldn’t help but wonder if this might be the moment where everything started to turn around and maybe, just maybe, she could beat her cancer the same way her grandmother had.
CHAPTER SIX
By the time they arrived at the county coroner’s office, Rachel saw clear evidence that the death of the young, pretty woman that worked at the governor’s office had already started making news. As they made their way inside the building, she saw a news van on the other side of the parking lot, the crew currently setting up for a report. Not too far away, a small SUV from a competing network was already pulling up.
“That was quick,” Rachel said, nodding over towards the crews as they walked toward the front doors.
“It was a very unique form of electrocution,” Jack said. “It’s going to make headlines.”
“Good. Maybe the killer didn’t count on that. Maybe it’ll even draw him out.”
They made their way inside, showed their IDs, and were directed to the east hallway. There, in a large examination room, they met the coroner. She was surprisingly young and, though Rachel did her best to avoid stereotypes of any kind, did not strike her as a coroner. She was a petite woman, surely no older than forty, that was just an outfit change away from a trip to the nearest yoga studio.
“I take it you’re here to check on the body of Emma Stern?” she asked after seeing their IDs.
“Yes,” Rachel said. “Have you finished your examination?”
“I have. And though I’m waiting for some results on blood tests, I honestly don’t expect to find anything that’s going to be worth your time.” She walked to one of three tables taking up space in the room. It was a large gurney containing a figure covered by a sheet. “Fair warning,” the coroner said. “It’s not pretty.”
She pulled the sheet back down to the collarbones, revealing the face and shoulders of Emma Stern. The coroner had been right; it was a bit of a shock. And while Rachel found it hard to look at the woman’s face, her heart truly trembled when she imagined poor old Mr. Gaughan discovering the body.
Emma’s face had been charred over more than half of its surface. Most of the skin on her forehead was either severely reddened or black and peeled. The right side of her mouth was pulled back in a permanent snarl and her eyebrows were, as Mr. Gaughan had said, singed and crisped. Rachel thought back to the partially melted metal frame of the power breaker at Emma’s home and nearly shuddered. Even if this killer turned out not to be the same one that had killed the first victim, it made him no less dangerous. But as she looked at Emma, she thought there was a very good chance the two would end up being connected just based on the severity of the murders.
“Obviously, the cause of death is clear,” the coroner said. “But if you need specifics, her brain simply received too much electricity. It essentially overheated. There’s significant damage to her heart, as well. Based on the trauma to the brain, my hope is that her pain was brief. Eight-to-ten seconds at most.”
“No other signs of injury?” Jack asked.
“Well, there’s a fracture in her nose, high up in the bridge, and two of her teeth near the front are chipped. It makes me quite sure that she hit that control box with considerable force. I feel pretty certain she was pushed into it from behind, quite hard.”
“No prints?” Jack asked.
“Not a single one.”
“There were theories floating around among the local PD that this murder could be connected to another murder that occurred two days ago,” Rachel said. “A corrections officer that was initially ruled a suicide.”
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