Night Whispers
Page 68
"Call nine-one-one," Sloan ordered her sister, taking over. Sloan gently rolled the elderly woman onto her back. "We'll start CPR and—" Sloan broke off when she saw the gunshot wound in her great-grandmother's chest. She sprang to her feet. "Get Paul!" Sloan shouted over her shoulder, already running. "Don't touch anything! Turn on the house lights—"
For a split second Noah thought she was running for a telephone, but there was one on the desk, and then he heard the back door crash open against the house.
"Call nine-one-one!" he shouted at Paris, charging out of the room in pursuit of Sloan. He couldn't believe the impulsive little fool was actually outside looking for a murderer.
He ran out the back door, his gaze flying over the deserted lawn; then he turned right, running along the back of the house because that seemed like the most logical route. He rounded the corner just as she dodged into the shadows up ahead. When he saw her again, she was flattened against the side of the house at the very front, looking around the corner. "Sloan!" he shouted, but she was already on the run, streaking across the front lawn, dodging shrubbery and jumping over obstacles as if they were hurdles in a footrace. He ran after her, gaining on her, too furious and frightened for her to appreciate the efficiency and agility of her movements—or to register why what she was doing looked uncannily familiar.
She stopped near the front gates. Her head drooped forward in defeat, and her shoulders began to heave with silent weeping. Noah caught up to her, grabbed her arms, and spun her around. "What the hell—"
"She's dead," she sobbed. "She's dead—" The tears streaming down her cheeks doused his wrath over her recklessness, and Noah pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
In the distance, sirens were wailing, moving closer, and Noah noticed the electric gates beginning to open. He moved Sloan out of the driveway as two police cruisers arrived from opposite directions, sirens wailing, light bars flashing.
35
The Palm Beach Police Department was not only efficient, it also knew how to deal with its wealthy, prominent citizens without ruffling their feathers, Sloan noticed dully.
Within minutes after the first patrol officers arrived at the scene, they'd sized up the situation, rounded up the occupants of the house so that evidence wouldn't be disturbed, and notified the Palm Beach County medical examiner. The Palm Beach PD crime scene team had arrived soon after, secured the area, and began dusting for fingerprints. In the meantime, two detectives began the process of interviewing everyone in the house.
The cook, housekeeper, butler, and caretaker were kept waiting in the dining room. Family members and friends were placed in the living room so that they would have privacy and comfort. Since Gary Dishler ranked between the two groups, Carter was asked to determine where he should be kept waiting, and he chose the living room.
Captain Walter Hocklin had been summoned from his bed to personally make certain that Carter Reynolds and his family were not subjected to any sort of unnecessary inconvenience by Detectives Dennis Flynn and Andy Cagle, or the other police officers who were stationed inside and outside.
In the study where Edith's body lay, camera flashes went off again and again as the medical examiner photographed the body before it was moved. Sloan flinched inwardly each time she saw the camera flash reflected in the hallway mirror outside the living room, and she prayed Paris didn't notice or realize what they were doing.
As she sat in the living room with Noah, Carter, and the others, Sloan was a mass of bewildered futility and angry disbelief. Detectives Flynn and Cagle had finished interviewing everyone individually, but after conferring with the team in the study, they said they needed to clarify and confirm some of their information.
The detectives referred to their notes while Captain Hocklin settled into a chair and courteously explained to his audience why this was necessary: "I know you're all tired and upset," he said, but he addressed his remarks mostly to Carter and Paris. "Before we start bothering you with more questions, I'll tell you what little we know at this point. Most important to you will be the knowledge that Mrs. Reynolds did not suffer. The bullet pierced her heart and she died instantly.
There's evidence of forced entry—a window in the room where she was found was broken and unlocked. Without your help, we can't tell what was taken, but drawers were ransacked. We have no idea how long the killer was in the house or whether he was in other parts of it. In the morning, we'll need you to look around and tell us what, if anything, is missing."
He paused, and Carter nodded curtly.
"We're going to do everything possible to get this ordeal over with as quickly and smoothly as possible. We're dusting for fingerprints in the bedrooms your family and guests are using right now, so you can sleep there tonight. Do not touch anything anywhere else. We're going to work straight through the night, and we hope to be out of here sometime tomorrow. The local press has already picked up the story, and so it will probably be national news by tomorrow. Your gates at the front of the house will keep them at a distance. Unfortunately your property is also accessible from the beach. We've put up crime-scene tape back there, and I'll place a man there tonight and tomorrow to keep people out. You really ought to hire a couple of security guards and post them back there for a few days after we're gone. Otherwise you'll be plagued to death with curiosity seekers and press."
"Gary will make the arrangements first thing in the morning," Carter said, and Gary nodded to confirm it.
"You'll be glad you did it. Now then, we've nearly finished interviewing your live-in staff, and I'd like to get them out of here until we're through tomorrow. Could you send them to a local motel, but keep them accessible for more questions?"
Carter glanced at Gary, who nodded and said, "I'll handle it."
"I understand you also employ two maids who live elsewhere. We'll be interviewing them tomorrow as soon as they arrive for work. After that, I'd like you to send them home." Satisfied that all that was out of the way, Hocklin got down to the business at hand: "I'm sorry to have to put you through more questions at this time, but it's imperative we get as much information as possible from you now, because your memories will be clearest. Detectives Flynn and Cagle have already talked to you individually, but it's helpful to gather you together as a group. Sometimes one member may say something that triggers another person's memory. Detective Flynn—" he said, nodding to the detective seated on his right.
For a split second Noah thought she was running for a telephone, but there was one on the desk, and then he heard the back door crash open against the house.
"Call nine-one-one!" he shouted at Paris, charging out of the room in pursuit of Sloan. He couldn't believe the impulsive little fool was actually outside looking for a murderer.
He ran out the back door, his gaze flying over the deserted lawn; then he turned right, running along the back of the house because that seemed like the most logical route. He rounded the corner just as she dodged into the shadows up ahead. When he saw her again, she was flattened against the side of the house at the very front, looking around the corner. "Sloan!" he shouted, but she was already on the run, streaking across the front lawn, dodging shrubbery and jumping over obstacles as if they were hurdles in a footrace. He ran after her, gaining on her, too furious and frightened for her to appreciate the efficiency and agility of her movements—or to register why what she was doing looked uncannily familiar.
She stopped near the front gates. Her head drooped forward in defeat, and her shoulders began to heave with silent weeping. Noah caught up to her, grabbed her arms, and spun her around. "What the hell—"
"She's dead," she sobbed. "She's dead—" The tears streaming down her cheeks doused his wrath over her recklessness, and Noah pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
In the distance, sirens were wailing, moving closer, and Noah noticed the electric gates beginning to open. He moved Sloan out of the driveway as two police cruisers arrived from opposite directions, sirens wailing, light bars flashing.
35
The Palm Beach Police Department was not only efficient, it also knew how to deal with its wealthy, prominent citizens without ruffling their feathers, Sloan noticed dully.
Within minutes after the first patrol officers arrived at the scene, they'd sized up the situation, rounded up the occupants of the house so that evidence wouldn't be disturbed, and notified the Palm Beach County medical examiner. The Palm Beach PD crime scene team had arrived soon after, secured the area, and began dusting for fingerprints. In the meantime, two detectives began the process of interviewing everyone in the house.
The cook, housekeeper, butler, and caretaker were kept waiting in the dining room. Family members and friends were placed in the living room so that they would have privacy and comfort. Since Gary Dishler ranked between the two groups, Carter was asked to determine where he should be kept waiting, and he chose the living room.
Captain Walter Hocklin had been summoned from his bed to personally make certain that Carter Reynolds and his family were not subjected to any sort of unnecessary inconvenience by Detectives Dennis Flynn and Andy Cagle, or the other police officers who were stationed inside and outside.
In the study where Edith's body lay, camera flashes went off again and again as the medical examiner photographed the body before it was moved. Sloan flinched inwardly each time she saw the camera flash reflected in the hallway mirror outside the living room, and she prayed Paris didn't notice or realize what they were doing.
As she sat in the living room with Noah, Carter, and the others, Sloan was a mass of bewildered futility and angry disbelief. Detectives Flynn and Cagle had finished interviewing everyone individually, but after conferring with the team in the study, they said they needed to clarify and confirm some of their information.
The detectives referred to their notes while Captain Hocklin settled into a chair and courteously explained to his audience why this was necessary: "I know you're all tired and upset," he said, but he addressed his remarks mostly to Carter and Paris. "Before we start bothering you with more questions, I'll tell you what little we know at this point. Most important to you will be the knowledge that Mrs. Reynolds did not suffer. The bullet pierced her heart and she died instantly.
There's evidence of forced entry—a window in the room where she was found was broken and unlocked. Without your help, we can't tell what was taken, but drawers were ransacked. We have no idea how long the killer was in the house or whether he was in other parts of it. In the morning, we'll need you to look around and tell us what, if anything, is missing."
He paused, and Carter nodded curtly.
"We're going to do everything possible to get this ordeal over with as quickly and smoothly as possible. We're dusting for fingerprints in the bedrooms your family and guests are using right now, so you can sleep there tonight. Do not touch anything anywhere else. We're going to work straight through the night, and we hope to be out of here sometime tomorrow. The local press has already picked up the story, and so it will probably be national news by tomorrow. Your gates at the front of the house will keep them at a distance. Unfortunately your property is also accessible from the beach. We've put up crime-scene tape back there, and I'll place a man there tonight and tomorrow to keep people out. You really ought to hire a couple of security guards and post them back there for a few days after we're gone. Otherwise you'll be plagued to death with curiosity seekers and press."
"Gary will make the arrangements first thing in the morning," Carter said, and Gary nodded to confirm it.
"You'll be glad you did it. Now then, we've nearly finished interviewing your live-in staff, and I'd like to get them out of here until we're through tomorrow. Could you send them to a local motel, but keep them accessible for more questions?"
Carter glanced at Gary, who nodded and said, "I'll handle it."
"I understand you also employ two maids who live elsewhere. We'll be interviewing them tomorrow as soon as they arrive for work. After that, I'd like you to send them home." Satisfied that all that was out of the way, Hocklin got down to the business at hand: "I'm sorry to have to put you through more questions at this time, but it's imperative we get as much information as possible from you now, because your memories will be clearest. Detectives Flynn and Cagle have already talked to you individually, but it's helpful to gather you together as a group. Sometimes one member may say something that triggers another person's memory. Detective Flynn—" he said, nodding to the detective seated on his right.
