11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Brooklyn Sloane January 2025 Thursday — 11:23 pm
The old-fashioned whiteboard was a grim mural of Jacob Walsh's violent history. Photos of his victims before their fatal attacks stared back at Brook with lifeless eyes.
Afterward?
Their flesh had been mangled to the point of being unrecognizable.
Even though all the information on the whiteboard had been uploaded into the firm’s software, Brook couldn’t bring herself to dismantle the material she had spent years cultivating. A more in-depth duplication of the murder board was hanging on her dining room wall. She couldn’t bring herself to remove those items, either. Having the information in both locations allowed her to study the chronological markers at her leisure, not that doing so tonight was producing anything of relevance.
Sylvie must have added Mitch Norona to the mix earlier this week. The man’s picture was off to the side with two question marks next to it—why would the defense attorney take Jacob's case, and how could Jacob afford such a high-profile firm?
Brook leaned against the doorframe of the small conference room. As was her usual routine, she scanned each detail from 1996 to the present. Nothing stood out that could explain Norona’s role in Jacob’s trial.
The distant sound of the front entrance buzzer pulled her concentration away from the timeline, and she turned her head just as Theo made his way around the corner of the hallway. He carried a bottle of cheap Moscato wine—her favorite—purchased at the convenience store on the corner. She lifted the corner of her lip in appreciation.
“Thought you could use some of your favorite bubbly,” Theo declared as he brushed past her. He continued to make his way to the kitchen, though he stopped just shy of the threshold. “Is that cat hair all over your pants?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Brook ignored his laugh. “It’s probably just lint from my coat.”
“Uh-huh,” Theo muttered as he disappeared from view, clearly not believing her little white lie in the least. He raised his voice so she could still hear him. “Everyone else go home?”
“Hours ago,” Brook called out as she stepped forward and made her way to the conference room table. She pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat. “Bit left his programs running, so if any hits are made, he’ll be notified at home.”
Brook hadn’t bothered to turn on the overhead fluorescent lights. The recessed lighting cast a softer glow on the murder board, sparing her eyes from the harsh glare. Despite the gentler illumination, Mitch Norona's picture still managed to elicit a nauseated reaction from her.
She swallowed her distaste. Just the thought of her brother and Norona together discussing his case made her sick, yet Norona had never been to the federal prison. Not even to visit another prisoner.
So, what was the relationship between the two of them?
Theo reappeared, a glass of sparkling wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. He handed the wine to Brook, which she seized gratefully. She immediately took a sip of the carbonated beverage, allowing the sweet flavor to roll over her tongue. Its soothing taste was only a temporary reprieve from the stress of the week’s events.
“Thanks,” Brook murmured before eyeing him with a sideways glance. “Why aren't you with Mia tonight?”
“Mia has some early morning appointments.” Theo uncapped his beer, tossing the cap onto the table. “She was wondering the other day if you are ever going to make an appointment.”
“Maybe,” Brook replied evasively as she took another sip of her wine. She only ever visited the doctor’s office when she was deathly sick. Unless she could be convinced otherwise, a chiropractor was no different, which was why she had never followed through with scheduling an appointment. “By the way, you can tell Graham that I’m holding up just fine.”
Theo paused in lifting his bottle before letting out a laugh that reverberated through the small room. He had gotten caught, but he didn’t seem to care.
“You think I don’t know Graham asked you to keep an eye on me while he’s away?”
“I'd ask how you knew, but the entire team has given up that quest.”
Brook’s gaze lingered on Jacob's picture front and center. Her brother had molded her into who she was now, and nothing she could say or do could ever take away that credit. Again, another round of nausea made itself known.
After a few minutes, the room fell into a comfortable silence as her queasiness wanned into oblivion. The tension in her shoulders also began to ease as she sipped her wine. She eventually turned her thoughts to the case at hand.
“Bit has been searching for the individual whose initials are AM.” Brook used the point of her right heel to turn her chair ever so slightly so she was facing Theo. “He has been through every contact in Mara's phone, every employee who works for Miles Therapeutics, and every social media profile that has ever engaged with her. So far, he has managed to get two hits."
“Viable hits?” Theo asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Unfortunately, no. One is a woman who owns a catering firm, and the other is an older man on the verge of retirement who currently working for Miles Therapeutics. Arden has already confirmed that neither of them had spoken to Mara in the days, let alone months, leading up to her death.”
“I know that we’re going over the timeline and the profile in tomorrow morning’s briefing, but it seems pretty straightforward for the prosecutor—Mara received payments from Jordan’s competitor, allegedly turned off their home security system to search her husband’s office in return, and she got caught.” Theo took a swig of his beer. “Am I missing anything?”
“I was the one who told Kitsis about the offshore bank account in Mara’s name,” Brook revealed.
“The department’s forensics accountant would have figured it out sooner or later.” Theo rested the bottle of beer on the padded arm of his chair. “The prosecutor’s case is shaping up to be a slam dunk despite Vaughn Queller’s alleged visit the night in question.”
“I figured,” Brook muttered as she tapped her worry ring against the stem of her wine glass. “I should be getting a call from Barry Ackles any minute. He left me a few messages that I have yet to return. Apparently, there is a court date set for Monday. He was hoping we would find evidence that pointed away from Jordan before then. Mara’s notation about her brother is unlikely to move the needle.”
Stella Bennett’s picture on the murder board caught Brook’s attention. The twelve-year-old girl was a reminder that most of the answers lie with the first victim.
“We need to throw out the corporate espionage angle.”
“That’s a large part of this investigation,” Theo countered skeptically before following her line of sight. “First victim.”
“Only victim, in this case. Everything about the crime scene feels…premeditated. It’s as if someone wanted Mara’s life to unravel.”
Brook enjoyed her wine while thinking over the new angle.
“We discovered Jordan’s affair with Claudia almost immediately,” Brook said aloud as she went through the progress of their investigation. “Right after that, we were basically handed the Derek Haze connection on a silver platter. We’ve been given a road map by someone, and the police have blindly followed…same with us, which is why we need to take a step back.”
“Focus on the victim and not the noise.”
“Exactly. I have a rough profile, but the gender could go either way. I’m not confident in my assessment yet.” Brook paused for a moment, mulling over the facts of the case. “You’re right about the prosecutor having everything tied up in a bow, especially since Jordan walked in minutes after his wife placed the 911 call.”
“Upon first glance, the handwriting in Mara’s planner to shut off the alarm appears to be hers. Doesn’t mean someone else didn’t mimic her handwriting.”
Brook studied Stella’s freckled features in the picture while she nursed her wine. The police had zeroed in on the girl’s uncle after her disappearance, giving no thought to anyone else, let alone an eleven-year-old boy in a nearby summer camp.
“Where are we on locating Vaughn Queller?”
“ATM footage proves Queller was in Bethesda hours before Mara was killed, but he hasn’t used his card since. He also hasn’t shown up for work, and he hasn’t been back to his apartment. The landlord has been keeping an eye on the place for us,” Theo said before taking a swig of his beer. “Arden has a list of some drug dens where Queller could be holed up, so I was thinking of hitting them tomorrow morning after our meeting.”
“You don’t need to attend the briefing,” Brook advised, deciding it was in their best interests to locate Queller sooner rather than later. “As I said earlier, I’m not focusing on the unsub’s gender at this time. The murder was clearly premeditated, indicating that our killer is methodical and patient. The manner in which the victim was killed suggests someone who felt betrayed…not just by Mara, but also by Jordan. We’re searching for someone close to them with access to their lives, schedules, and home.”
“You might as well point a neon arrow directly at Claudia Hart.”
“Speaking of which, before you start searching for Queller, would you verify Claudia’s alibi? She left the penthouse around six o’clock on Sunday night to visit her mother, even though she attempted to cover for Jordan.”
“How so?”
“Claudia tried to claim that she was with Jordan until seven, attempting to give him an alibi for when the estate’s security system was shut off.”
“Foolish move on her part.”
“Jordan countered her claim almost immediately. He didn’t want her covering for him.”
“I’ll stop by the mother’s house tomorrow morning then.”
“I’ve spoken to Alex DeSilva about the possibility of Claudia’s involvement.” Brook took time to drain the rest of the contents in her wineglass. “Since he has a team surveilling Jordan from afar, Alex is also having them keep tabs on her. I didn’t get the sense that she resented Jordan in any way the other night, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t good at concealing her emotions. In the meantime, Bit is cultivating a list of everyone who has been at the estate in the past two to three months.”
Brook noticed Theo's gaze drifting to Mitch Norona's picture on the murder board.
“You know, I thought Jacob was standing at the defense table when I walked into the courtroom on Monday morning,” Brook divulged, even though she had known ahead of time that Jacob hadn’t been transferred from federal prison to the courthouse. Still, the way Norona’s brown hair curled at the ends was eerily similar to that of her brother’s hair. “I don’t like it, Theo. I can feel Jacob moving the pieces around on the board. A part of me is expecting him to use the trial as a diversion for some type of escape plan, yet he continues to remain behind in his cell.”
“Bit thinks there could be a connection through Norona's earlier law years when he only dealt with finance,” Theo said before pulling his gaze from the lawyer’s photograph. “Is there a way to convince the federal prosecutor to look into Norona's financial accounts?”
“Doubtful. No federal judge would sign off on that type of warrant without good cause. A hunch isn’t good enough.”
Theo raised his beer bottle and tilted it in the direction of Bit’s office. It was Theo’s way of suggesting that Bit blur the lines of the law. She hated that she had been the one to teach him—and Sylvie—that it was sometimes necessary to rationalize one’s choices rather than follow the letter of the law.
Bit, on the other hand, viewed life differently.
He had performed and executed tasks in Brook’s effort to track Jacob without hesitation. Sometimes, it took stepping outside the lines of justice to bring down the monsters.
Unfortunately, every time a line was blurred or crossed, they ran the risk of corrupting the case against the offender. Along with such risk, there was always a possibility other law enforcement agencies would eventually discover their misdeeds. Bit might have all the talent in the world, but no one was perfect.
“Stop. I know that look,” Theo said as he lifted his boot off the ground and nudged her chair. “I wouldn't change a thing, you know. I've never been happier in my life. I have the best job in the world, I'm dating the woman of my dreams, and I have a best friend who would help me hide a body.”
Brook couldn't help but laugh. Theo was referring to a conversation between Bit and Sylvie, where the two of them had claimed that true friends didn't ask questions—they just brought a shovel. It was true that Brook considered Theo her best friend, but laughing and interacting the way they were tonight did not come naturally to her. She chalked it up to the wine, but Theo would undoubtedly take her reaction as a win.
“I’ve done my job, so I’m heading home. I’m leaving the Jeep in the parking garage, though. I’m going to walk. Care to join me?”
Since the two of them lived in the same condo building, they walked the short distance most of the time. Seeing as they didn’t have all the facts surrounding Mitch Norona, it didn’t surprise her that Graham had asked Theo to keep additional tabs on her welfare.
“I’ve got a lot more work to do,” Brook said quietly as she tore her gaze away from Norona’s picture. “You can text Graham that I’m fine.”
“Don’t be mad at him, Brook. He cares for you.”
“He loves me.” Brook glanced down at her empty glass, wishing Theo had brought the bottle with him into the conference room. “I can see it in the way he looks at me. Feel it in his touch. And what scares me most? I can’t say those words back to him, Theo. I’m terrified that if I say them aloud…Jacob will find a way to destroy my life completely.”