Chapter 40
Jane dropped to her knees and felt for a pulse. But Matthew stared sightlessly at the sky, his eyes clouded, his skin sallow, one hand fisted at his side, as if clutching to a life slipping away.
No, slipped away.
He had no heartbeat.
She performed CPR, hoping to revive him.
But she knew. Could see his lifeless body.
Her mind refused to accept it.
“Come on, Matthew. Get up. Wake up, damn it!”
Chest compressions, followed by breathing into his mouth. Thirty and two. Thirty and two.
Nothing but stale air rushed out. After several minutes, she sat back on her heels, conscious of his blood seeping into her knees.
He’d been dead for hours. This wasn’t a fresh kill.
Her mind dissociated, and she stood, numb, and took mental notes while the dispatcher stayed on the line, saying words that made no sense to Jane in her disconnected frame of mind.
She did her best not to feel, to forget Matthew’s warm smiles, the intelligence shining in his blue eyes. His kisses, the softness of a caress showing her she mattered. His respect and admiration for what she’d accomplished, not envy or fear that she’d show him up.
When the police and paramedics arrived, announcing themselves, she automatically answered. “FBI Agent Cannon up here,” she called out. “House is clear.”
Two armed officers arrived first, the area too small to fit more than a few people.
Upon seeing her and the body—Matthew—they lowered their weapons.
“House is clear,” she said again, her voice robotic, but she couldn’t help it.
They shared a glance before one of the officers drew her toward him. “Ma’am, let’s let the medics up here.”
“Sure. But it won’t do any good. He’s dead.
” Unfortunately, her voice broke, and her vision grew blurry.
She wiped her eyes, determined to be professional.
“That’s ASAC Matthew Scott of the FBI. He’s been shot in the stomach.
He’s got knife wounds to the hands and feet.
Fingernails on his right hand are missing.
Several marks, perhaps made with a cigarette or lighter, on his neck. ”
She continued to rattle off the details she’d noted.
The officers took notes and her statement down in the kitchen, including the time she’d arrived.
Jane answered their questions and accepted a bottle of water, surprised to find herself thirsty.
“You’re going into shock,” one of the officers stated, her voice calm. “Please, have a seat, Agent Cannon.”
“No, I’m good. But I have blood on my hands and pants from trying to revive ASAC Scott. Do you want to process me before I clean up?”
Forensics milled in the house, so they took care of that quickly.
The officers ushered Jane outside to one of the patrol cars, where she borrowed a bottle of water and a towel.
“You have some on your cheek too,” the male officer with her added, pointing under his eye.
She wiped it clean.
“Got it.” He nodded.
The detective in charge took over questioning, and she answered all his questions as best as she was able. Her voice didn’t break. Her answers didn’t falter.
“You think this is connected to something he’s been working on?” the detective asked.
Then it hit her. “You need to call Detective Ray Ryan at East Seattle PD. Make sure he’s safe. Do it now.” She swore. “No wait. I have him on my phone. He’s working the same case.”
The detective turned to issue more orders to his officers while Jane dialed Ray.
“Yo, Jane. What’s up?”
“You’re good?”
“Yeah, well, as good as I can be with being neck-deep in crime lately.”
“Good. My boss—my ex-boss—has just been murdered.”
“What?”
“I think it’s related to what we’re working on. Make sure you’re secure.”
Ray swore. “Will do. I’m sending units over to check my house.”
“Good.”
“You good?”
“No. But I will be.”
“Stay safe.”
“You too. I’ll talk soon.” She hung up and saw the detective watching her with concern. “Sorry. This just… I wasn’t expecting this. I thought ASAC Scott hadn’t been answering because he was busy on the case. I should have checked in sooner.”
Her eyes burned, so she dialed back any hint of emotion. “I need to call my boss and let her know. And…” Jane coughed. “We need to keep this quiet until Senator Scott and Mrs. Scott are notified.
The detective looked horrified. “Oh, crap. He’s that Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“I need to call my lieutenant.” He stepped away to make his calls.
Jane dialed Grimshaw, who answered right away. “Cannon, what’s up?”
“Ma’am, I found ASAC Scott in his home. He’s been killed.”
A loud silence settled before Grimshaw said, “Say that again.”
Jane repeated herself.
“I’ll let the Scotts know.”
“The detective in charge is making calls too, but—”
“I’ll notify the chain. Are you all right?”
“As good as I can be,” Jane said gruffly. “I think he’d been dead for a while. I tried CPR, but it was no use.”
“Oh Jane.” Grimshaw sighed. “This is just… I’m sending Sullivan. Stay on site and see what you can do to help. If they’ll let us.”
“I will.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.” Grimshaw hung up.
Jane watched everyone process the scene and answered more questions without getting into the specifics of what Matthew had been working on.
She wondered how Haversham and Lionel would take the news. What the FBI would do when one of its own had been murdered.
And tortured.
No question that Matthew hadn’t gone quickly.
Pain and rage battled inside her, but she kept it down. Buried deep, where she could dig it up later, in private.
Jane had a job to do. Matthew deserved justice, and she’d be damned if she’d impede its progress in any way.
Time passed while Jane was called in to look around and answer more questions. She couldn’t tell if anything had gone missing. Matthew’s laptop was present, as was his phone.
Once again outside on the front patio, Jane felt the cool breeze wash away the humidity, September trying to hang onto summer despite the slow creep of autumn.
Jenn appeared and flashed her badge. The officers let her approach.
“You okay?” Jenn asked as she drew closer.
Jane nodded.
Jenn stood by her, not saying anything. She listened while the detective asked a few more questions he’d previously asked, to which Jane didn’t have any answers. She had no idea about Matthew’s neighbors or prior dating life, though she did believe he was currently single.
Jenn said nothing to that, though she could have chimed in, Jane supposed.
But the investigation needed to center on who had killed him, not on Jane for having a tentative relationship with the victim.
An officer stopped by the detective, holding a baggie with something inside it.
The detective asked, “Agent Cannon, was ASAC Scott into chess?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, we didn’t find a chess set inside, but we did find this curled in his fist.” He held out the baggie.
Inside it was a black chess piece covered in blood.
The rook.