CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Kate, I'm sorry to wake you." Her voice was tense with urgency. "But it looks like we have another body."
Kate sat up immediately, her mind snapping to full alertness. "What are the details?"
"The victim is Jennifer Haynes, another local... and if I remember correctly a—”
“A member of the book club,” Kate finished. “Jesus, I just saw her last night.”
“Well, her husband found her dead in their living room about an hour ago. I'm heading to the scene now."
The reality of the situation hit Kate like a cold shock. Jennifer Haynes, the emotional woman from last night's book club meeting who had said a few kind things about Margaret Carlisle. The woman who claimed to have developed a growing friendship with their first victim.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," Kate said, already swinging her legs out of bed. "Text me the address."
Kate moved quietly through her morning routine.
Allen was already awake, as he was one of those oddballs who actually enjoyed waking up at dawn.
But she wanted to make sure not to wake Michael.
So she dressed quickly and then followed the smell of coffee downstairs.
She made herself a cup and then found Allen on the back porch in his robe, cradling a steaming mug and watching the sunrise paint their small backyard in shades of gold and orange.
"Another case?" Allen asked without turning around. His voice carried that resigned tone she'd heard countless times. Perhaps he simply knew because she’d woken up so early and come down already dressed. Or maybe because, as he’d pointed out last night, he’d seen that look of growing obsession on her face last night.
"Another murder," Kate confirmed, stepping onto the porch. "Same book club as yesterday's victim. It’s a woman I saw last night when I was sort of undercover."
Allen turned to look at her then, and she could see the concern in his expression. "So you’re looking at a serial killer now?"
"Looking that way." Kate sipped the coffee gratefully, feeling the caffeine begin to clear the last traces of sleep from her mind. "I'm sorry, Allen, but I need to get to the scene. Can you handle Michael this morning?"
"Of course I can," Allen replied, though she caught the slight edge in his voice. "But I do have a client call at ten-thirty that I really can't reschedule. It's the Peterson account, and they've been trying to get this meeting set up for three weeks."
Kate felt the familiar tug of guilt that came with balancing her job alongside family commitments. "Can you call someone to watch Michael during the call? Maybe ask Emma Layne if she's free?"
"I'll figure something out," Allen said, but his tone suggested he wasn't entirely happy about having to scramble for childcare arrangements on short notice. "This is what I do, Kate. But it would be nice to have a little more advance notice when possible."
"I know, and I'm sorry. Serial killers don't exactly send calendar invitations." Kate leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I'll try to give you better updates throughout the day so you can plan accordingly."
Allen nodded, though she could tell he was still irritated. "Just be careful, okay? If someone is targeting book club members specifically, you need to remember that you were at their meeting last night… even if you aren’t an actual member."
Kate felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air.
She hadn't considered that her attendance at the book club meeting might have put her on the killer's radar, but Allen was right to be concerned.
If the killer had been watching the group, they would have seen her there.
She rewarded him with another quick kiss.
She loved how he could so quickly see the more dangerous details that she so often overlooked.
"I'll be careful," Kate promised, though if they were dealing with someone who had taken two lives in just three days, then careful might not be enough.
She hurried inside to grab her Glock and badge. She was then out of the door thirty seconds later and made her way to the address DeMarco had texted her immediately after their call. She was horrified to find that it was yet another home not too far away from her own—just a twelve-minute drive.
She'd told DeMarco she'd be there in twenty minutes, and she made it in nineteen.
She pulled up to a modest split-level house in a neighborhood similar to Margaret's, though perhaps slightly more upscale.
Two police units were parked in the driveway, and she could see DeMarco's sedan at the curb.
Crime scene tape had already been strung around the front porch, and a uniformed officer was stationed at the front door.
DeMarco met her on the sidewalk, looking grim and professional in her dark suit and FBI windbreaker. "Man, you’re quick,” she said.
“I’m an overachiever, what can I say? So… what’s the rundown?”
“The husband, Rick Haynes, found her around five-thirty this morning when he got up for work,” DeMarco said as they headed for the door. “He says Jennifer sometimes fell asleep on the living room couch when she got really absorbed in a book."
"Where is he now?" Kate asked, noting the absence of any family members or witnesses in the immediate area.
"Inside with Detective Patrick, giving his statement.
He's pretty shaken up… understandably." DeMarco led Kate toward the front door.
"Rick says he went downstairs looking for Jennifer when she wasn't in bed, and found her collapsed on the living room floor.
He called 911 immediately and attempted CPR, but she was clearly deceased. "
Kate felt her professional instincts kick in as they approached the house. Far too often, they got in the way of compassion. "So the scene is contaminated."
"Completely. Rick moved the body, performed CPR, and probably touched multiple surfaces while trying to help her.
Any DNA evidence we might have collected is going to be compromised by his attempts to save her.
I naturally haven't had the heart to tell him.
But I think one of the cops made it clear when they arrived. "
They showed their badges to the uniformed officer at the door and entered the house.
Kate immediately noticed the difference between Jennifer's home and Margaret's.
Where Margaret's house had felt lived-in and comfortable, Jennifer's felt more carefully curated.
The furniture was newer, the color coordination more deliberate, the decorative accessories arranged with the precision of someone who read home design magazines.
"Living room is through here," DeMarco said, leading Kate down a short hallway past a formal dining room and kitchen.
Kate stopped in the doorway of the living room, taking in the scene with the analytical eye she'd developed over decades of crime scene investigation.
Jennifer Haynes lay on her back on the hardwood floor, covered by a white sheet presumably placed there by the emergency responders.
Her position suggested she had fallen forward off the sectional sofa and then been moved by her husband's CPR attempts.
"What's the preliminary cause of death?" Kate asked.
"Unknown pending autopsy, but there are no obvious signs of trauma. No blood, no evidence of struggle, no defensive wounds visible on her hands or arms." DeMarco pointed toward the coffee table. "But look at what she was doing when she died."
Kate approached the coffee table and immediately understood DeMarco's concern.
A copy of Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers lay open on the table, a bookmark visible in the pages Jennifer had yet to read.
Beside the book sat a yellow ceramic mug containing what appeared to be the remnants of a dark-colored tea.
"She was reading and drinking tea," Kate observed. "Just like Margaret was reading and drinking wine."
"Exactly. Both victims were found in their reading spaces, both were engaged with books when they died, both had beverages nearby. The parallel is too obvious to be coincidental."
Kate studied the positioning of the book and tea mug, noting that, unlike Margaret's carefully staged death scene, Jennifer's appeared more chaotic.
The book was askew on the table, the mug was only partially finished.
Jennifer's body position suggested sudden collapse rather than deliberate arrangement.
"This doesn't look staged like Margaret's scene," Kate said. "No careful positioning, no literary symbolism that I can see immediately."
"That's what I was thinking,” DeMarco replied. “Either the killer was interrupted, or they're changing their methods."
Kate heard voices from another room and realized they would need to interview Rick Haynes while his memories of finding Jennifer were still fresh. But first, she wanted to understand the scene more thoroughly. Her attention instantly went back to the teacup.
"Has anyone touched the tea mug?" Kate asked.
"Rick says he didn't touch anything except Jennifer's body when he was trying to perform CPR. When he found her, the mug was sitting exactly where it is now."
Kate leaned closer to examine the mug without touching it. Based on a brief smell-test, Kate thought the liquid inside appeared to be herbal tea, probably chamomile. About two-thirds of the contents had been consumed, suggesting Jennifer had been drinking it for several minutes before her collapse.
"We need to get that mug to the lab immediately," Kate said. "If Jennifer was poisoned, the tea would be the most likely delivery method."
"Already arranged. Crime scene techs should be here within the hour to collect everything."
The medical examiner arrived as Kate and DeMarco were finishing their initial examination of the living room.
Dr. Patricia Williams was a veteran ME who had worked dozens of cases with Kate over the years, and her presence provided a level of professional comfort in what was becoming an increasingly complex investigation.
"Two bodies in three days, both connected to the same book club," Dr. Williams said as she knelt beside Jennifer's covered form. "Is that about right?”
“That’s an accurate summary, yes,” Kate said.
“I'm assuming you suspect a serial killer."
"It's looking that way," Kate confirmed. "Different methods, but too many connections to be coincidental."
Dr. Williams began her preliminary examination, carefully documenting Jennifer's position and visible condition before the body would be moved to the morgue.
Kate watched the process with the detached professionalism that came from years of crime scene experience, but she couldn't shake the image of Jennifer's sorrowful face from the previous evening.
"No obvious signs of trauma," Dr. Williams reported. "No bruising, no ligature marks, no defensive wounds. If this is homicide, we're probably looking at poisoning or some other method that doesn't leave obvious physical evidence."
"How long would you estimate she's been dead?" DeMarco asked.
"Based on lividity and rigor mortis, I'd say between ten and twelve hours. So somewhere between ten p.m. and midnight last night."
Kate calculated the timeline in her head.
The book club meeting had ended around nine o'clock, with some members staying later for coffee and pie.
Jennifer had left early, probably arriving home around 9:30 or so.
If Dr. Williams' estimate was correct, Jennifer had died within a few hours of leaving the meeting.
"That's a very narrow window," Kate said. "Someone either followed her home from the book club meeting, or they were waiting for her."
"The husband was home during that time period," DeMarco pointed out. "He could confirm Jennifer's arrival time and her activities before she came downstairs for tea."
Kate nodded, though she was already developing a theory about how the killer had gained access to Jennifer's tea.
Unlike Margaret's murder, which required the victim to open her door to someone she trusted, Jennifer's death could have been accomplished by someone who had access to her house earlier in the day.
"We need to interview the husband before his shock wears off," Kate said. "He might remember details now that he'll forget later as the trauma sets in."
As the medical examiner's team prepared to remove Jennifer's body, Kate took one final look around the living room.
The scene felt different from Margaret's library, less deliberate and more opportunistic.
But the connection to literature was unmistakable, and once again the timing suggested someone who knew the book club members' schedules and habits.
Kate found herself thinking about the evening's dynamics at Eleanor's house, remembering the various tensions and resentments that had surfaced during their conversations.
Someone in that room had known they would be killing Jennifer within hours of expressing sympathy for Margaret's death.
The realization that they were dealing with a serial killer who was targeting book club members specifically sent a chill through Kate's professional composure.
Two women were dead within three days, both killed in their homes while engaged in their shared passion for reading.
And if the killer was following some kind of pattern or timeline, there might be more victims planned before Kate and DeMarco could identify and stop them.
The question now was which of the book club members had the potential to be both a suspect and a killer.