CHAPTER NINE
Connor turned onto a residential street on the eastern side of Eagleton and slowed beside a line of county vehicles.
The neighborhood had been built in the late eighties when the town expected the mines to keep expanding.
Single-story houses stood behind short lawns, each separated by a narrow drive.
Several had enclosed porches and patched roofs.
A basketball hoop leaned over one driveway, its net torn away.
Across the road, two women watched from behind a screen door while a boy in a school uniform held a bicycle between his knees.
Yellow tape crossed the path of a beige ranch house near the end of the street.
Connor parked behind Arnold’s cruiser.
Selena reached for the door, then noticed a dark blue sedan turning in behind them. Kelly Voss pulled to the curb and switched off the engine.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Selena asked.
Connor glanced in the rear-view mirror. "Go easy. We don't need any drama."
Selena released the door handle and turned toward him. “Unlike the drama you caused with Morimer last time?”
His jaw tightened. “That was personal.”
“Well, so is this.”
Connor opened his door before the discussion could deepen. Selena got out on the passenger side and adjusted the badge clipped to her belt.
Kelly crossed the road toward them, carrying a small field bag. Her gray suit from that morning had been replaced by dark slacks and a fitted jacket, though the same careful makeup remained in place.
Selena waited at the bottom of the path.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working Karen Sloane’s social accounts?”
“I was,” Kelly said. “Cheryl told me Arnold had called in another suspicious death. I thought you could use backup and a fresh perspective.”
“You decided that yourself?”
“I brought scene gear and the case notes. I didn’t touch anything before you arrived.”
Connor moved between them without making it obvious. “Arnold’s waiting.”
Selena could have sent Kelly back to the field office. Doing so in front of deputies and neighbors would turn a professional disagreement into a public one. More important, a second woman lay dead inside the house, and Kelly was now standing ten yards from the door.
“Stay behind the scene path,” Selena said. “Do exactly what Matt tells you once he gets here.”
Kelly nodded. “Understood.”
Arnold Shaw stood beneath the porch overhang, holding the tape high enough for them to pass. His usual eagerness had vanished. A pale line crossed his forehead where his hat had rested before he removed it.
“Who found the body?” Connor asked.
“The boyfriend.” Arnold lowered the tape behind them. “Name’s Oliver Smith. He called at eleven forty-seven. Chuck was closest and got here first.”
“Damn,” Connor said. “I knew him when we were younger. He still drinks in Roy’s bar every now and then.”
“What do we have in terms of the victim?” Selena asked.
Arnold nodded. “Female, likely the homeowner. Ruth Keller, forty-two. Chuck checked for signs of life from the doorway and backed out. We locked the scene down.”
“Anyone else enter?”
“Oliver forced the front door. Chuck went as far as the study threshold. Nobody else.”
Selena studied the damaged frame. A wedge of wood had splintered beside the deadbolt, and the metal strike plate hung from one screw. The door stood open, revealing a narrow hallway and part of the living room.
“Where’s Oliver?”
“In another room with Chuck. I didn’t want him sitting out here with half the street watching.”
That made sense provided Chuck had kept him away from the study and any possible evidence.
Connor went first. Selena followed, with Kelly behind her.
The living room was small but orderly. A knitted throw had been folded over the sofa, and three framed landscape prints hung above it. An open book rested beside a pair of reading glasses on an end table. Nothing appeared disturbed.
Deputy Chuck Danner sat on the edge of an armchair near the front window. His solid frame filled most of it. Gray marked the hair at his temples, and his uniform shirt pulled slightly across his middle as he leaned toward the man on the sofa.
Oliver Smith appeared to be in his mid-forties.
He was tall but narrow through the shoulders, with a sunken chest beneath a plaid work shirt.
Dark hair receded from his forehead in uneven points.
His skin carried the weathered color of someone who spent much of his time outdoors, though at that moment all warmth had drained from it.
Both fists were pressed between his knees.
His breathing came in short, uneven pulls.
Connor crossed the room.
“Oliver.”
The man raised his head.
Recognition broke what remained of his control. “Connor.”
Connor crouched in front of him. “Take a breath for me. Slow it down.”
“I saw her.”
“I know. Breathe in through your nose.”
Oliver tried. The first attempt failed halfway. Connor remained there and counted quietly until the next breath held.
“That’s it,” he said. “Again.”
Selena stayed near the hallway. Kelly stopped beside the front door, giving Oliver space.
After several breaths, Connor asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”
Oliver rubbed both palms over his thighs. “I came over because I couldn’t get a hold of Ruth.”
“Were you in a relationship?”
“We’d been seeing each other for two months. Maybe closer to three.”
Selena opened her notebook. “Is Ruth the woman in the study?”
Oliver nodded and covered his mouth. A sob pushed through his fingers.
“We need to ask you some questions,” Selena said. “I know this is difficult, but the timing matters.”
He lowered his hand. “All right.”
“When did you last speak with her?” Selena asked.
“Tuesday night. Around nine. We talked on the phone for maybe twenty minutes.”
“What did you discuss?”
“Nothing important. Her work. Dinner on Friday. She said she had paperwork to finish.”
Selena noted down his answers carefully. "What did Ruth do for work?"
“She was an insurance adjuster. Worked from home most days.”
“Did she sound frightened or upset?”
“No. Tired, maybe.”
“When did you become concerned?”
“I texted her first thing this morning. No answer. I called twice after that. By late morning, I knew something was wrong.”
Connor said, “What made you come over instead of waiting longer?”
Oliver flinched. “We’d had a small disagreement Tuesday afternoon. We made up on the phone later, but I worried she might still be upset.”
“What about?” Selena asked.
“She said I was pushing things too fast. I told her I didn’t think seeing each other twice a week counted as fast.”
“Did she invite you here today?”
“No. I came because she still wasn’t answering.”
Selena shifted her attention to the front door. “Did you force your way inside?”
“Yes. I knocked for ten minutes. Her car was here. I walked around the side and saw her through the study window. She was on the floor.”
“Did you enter the study?”
“No. I kicked the front door until it opened. It has one of those auto-locks and locks up after several minutes. I got halfway down the hall, saw all the blood, and called nine-one-one.”
Oliver’s shoulders began shaking again.
“Oh, God. Who could do something like that? Poor Ruth. Poor Ruth.”
Chuck placed a hand against the back of the armchair, close without touching him.
“She’s just through there,” he said, nodding toward an open doorway at the end of the hall.
Selena turned to Chuck, took a few steps with him and lowered her voice. “Keep recording Oliver’s account. Don’t ask about details he couldn’t have seen from the hallway.”
Chuck reached for his notebook. “I’ve got it.”
Connor stood. Together, he and Selena moved toward the study, with Kelly following several steps behind.
Disposable shoe covers and gloves came from the kit Arnold had left near the approved route. Selena pulled them on, then waited while Connor did the same.
A strip of blue painter’s tape marked the section Chuck had crossed during his welfare check. Beyond it, the hallway opened into a compact room lined with bookcases. A desk faced the side window. Filing boxes sat beneath one wall, each marked with a year and client category.
Ruth Keller lay on the floor between the desk and a low cabinet.
Her body rested partly on one side, knees bent, one arm stretched toward the doorway. Blood had soaked the front of her blouse and spread beneath her torso. Several drops formed a broken line across the floorboards near Connor’s right shoe.
He started to step forward.
Selena caught his sleeve.
“Careful.”
Connor froze and followed her gaze. The toe of his cover hovered less than an inch from a small bloodstain.
He shifted back onto the taped route. “Thanks.”
From the doorway, the similarities to Karen’s death were already visible.
Ruth’s mouth remained open. Dried blood marked her jaw and neck.
The wound inside was partly hidden by the angle of her head, but Selena did not need a flashlight to understand what had been done.
Nearby, a lump of flesh, which could only have been her severed tongue, lay on the floor like a decapitated snake.
A framed photograph lay broken beside the desk. Papers covered the floor around it, though the desk itself appeared otherwise intact. No obvious second act of destruction like there was with Karen Sloane’s word processor.
A closed laptop remained on the desk beside a charging cable with no phone attached.
Selena took in the desktop without crossing the threshold. “I don’t see her phone.”
Connor checked the room from the marked route. “Neither do I.”
“Have Matt confirm whether it’s somewhere else in the house. Karen’s phone was missing too.”
Kelly approached behind them and stopped at the threshold.
“This looks like Karen Sloane’s murder.”
“It is,” Selena said. “Her tongue’s been removed.”
Connor stared at Ruth. “Same type of wounds?”
“Several to the chest. Defensive cuts on one hand, from what I can see. We’ll wait for Blethan before drawing the rest.”
A vehicle stopped outside.
Seconds later, the front door opened, and Matt Price's voice carried through the house.
“Tell me nobody walked through the scene.”
He appeared in the hallway wearing a black shirt, cargo pants, and a camera bag across his chest. Tattoos ran below both sleeves. His attention went from Selena to Connor, then to the blood drop near Connor’s shoe covers.
“Jesus, guys. Have you already messed up my scene?”
“No,” Selena said. “Chuck established the route, and we stayed on it.”
“You’re standing close enough to make me nervous.”
“We haven’t crossed the threshold.”
Matt set down his bag near the hallway wall. "Good. Take another step back before Dr. Blethan gets here, or he'll blow a gasket."
Connor moved first.
Selena remained long enough to take in the room once more. Two deaths. Similar chest wounds. Tongues removed. Both women alone in houses where they expected privacy.
Whatever doubt remained about a connection had disappeared.
“I’ve seen enough for now,” she said.
Matt pulled on gloves. “I’ll call you when I’ve documented the room.”
“Photograph the front approach and the damaged door before anyone repairs it. Oliver forced entry after seeing her through the window, but I want the break pattern confirmed.”
“Already on the list.”
“And compare any footwear or fibers with the Montgomery scene.”
Matt gave her a level stare. “I do know how to process linked scenes.”
“Then we agree.”
Kelly stepped away before Matt could answer.
Outside, Arnold had moved the neighbors back from the tape.
A second deputy stood at the curb taking names from anyone who claimed to have seen unusual vehicles and making inquiries about any ring cams in the area that might have caught something.
Clouds had gathered over the ridge, softening the light across the street.
Selena removed the outer gloves and placed them in an evidence disposal bag.
“There’s no doubt now,” she said. “We have a double homicide.”
Connor kept his voice low. “Same killer?”
“I’d bet on it. The tongue removal is too specific, and both victims suffered chest wounds in their own workspaces.”
Kelly joined them near the porch rail. “Do we know whether Ruth wrote anything?”
“Not yet,” Selena said. “Her study appears connected to her insurance work. The killer may be targeting speech rather than writing.”
Connor glanced toward the front door. Oliver’s voice came faintly from inside, breaking each time he tried to answer Chuck’s questions.
“You know him well?” Selena said.
“More when we were kids. Oliver’s uncle worked with my dad. He’s never been in trouble that I know of.”
“That doesn’t clear him.”
“I know.”
Selena took a deep breath as if to steady herself. “Go back in and ask whether Ruth attended Elmsview High. I think we already know the answer.”
Connor followed her reasoning. “Age fits with the other victims.”
“Exactly.”
He returned inside.
Kelly rested both hands on the strap of her field bag. “Well, this is some first day on the job.”
Selena watched Matt unload evidence markers from his vehicle.
A day earlier, Karen Sloane had seemed like the victim of a personal attack. The removed tongue, the smashed word processor, the isolated cabin. Every detail suggested someone had wanted to silence one woman.
Ruth Keller changed the shape of everything.
“I don’t know what’s happened to this place,” Selena said. “Ever since I came back, it feels cursed.”
Kelly studied her but did not dismiss the remark. “What do we do now?”
“We treat the scenes as linked unless the evidence proves otherwise. We chase the high school connection, compare their work histories, relationships, phone records, and every person who had access to them. We find where their lives overlapped after graduation.”
“And Karen’s writing groups?”
“You keep working them. Check Ruth’s social accounts, too. Look for shared contacts, common groups, local events, anything connecting the two women.”
Kelly nodded. “All right.”
Connor disappeared back into the house.
Selena turned toward the neighboring homes. People watched from porches and windows, already carrying the news through Eagleton before the coroner’s van arrived.
Karen and Ruth were close in age. Linda Mercer fell within the same range and had already been confirmed as an Elmsview High graduate. The connection might mean nothing in a county where generations passed through the same school, but three women had now drawn their attention within two days.
Selena lowered her voice.
“We know this is a double murder. We have to follow the high school angle and hope we don’t end up with a serial killer on our hands.”