Delta
T essman met Cooper, Jackson, and Brielle in the conference room on the fifth floor.
Cooper directed him to sit beside Jackson on the far side of the table.
Brielle was on Jackson’s other side.
Then Cooper sat beside Tessman.
“I want you two in the center, as you are running primary on the case,” Cooper said.
“Angel will bring her in when she arrives.”
They didn’t have to wait long.
Just a few minutes later, Angel appeared at the door and then, stepping back, she ushered the client in.
“Miss Becca Elliot,” Angel said.
Tessman watched her enter.
Becca Elliot appeared to be in her mid-thirties.
She was a beautiful woman with chestnut brown shoulder-length hair, vibrant green eyes, a flawless complexion, and a confident manner.
She wore blue jeans and a dark green V-neck girlie T-shirt over her slim but strong-looking frame.
He could just as easily envision her wearing a business suit and he believed she would look as comfortable in it as she did in blue jeans.
The four of them stood, and they each introduced themselves.
“Please, have a seat,” Jackson invited.
They sat after she did.
“Miss Elliot,” Jackson began.
“Please, it’s just Becca,” she said.
“To recap a few items, and please let me know if I have any of it incorrect,” Brielle said, “your sister and her entire family were found by a UPS driver making a delivery.”
“Yes, he looked through the side window on the front door and saw my brother-in-law lying in the hallway when no one answered the door when he rang. He called the police.”
“Neither your brother-in-law nor your sister had a FOID card or were known to you to own any weapons,” Brielle continued.
“Correct,” Becca said.
“I guess the best place to start is why you don’t think the police’s determination is correct,” Jackson said.
“There are several reasons. I know you’re not going to accept this at face value, but the fact is, my brother-in-law, Nick, was not a gun guy. He’d never fired one in his life. He was a science nerd. If he was going to kill his family and himself, it would have been with some chemical agent, a drug, or something else nonviolent. And I was very close to my sister. She told me everything. They had no problems beyond just the normal married life stuff like he left the toilet seat up or didn’t take the trash out when she asked him. Nick was sane, he wasn’t some crazy lunatic with bi-polar or depression. No one was a powder keg just waiting to explode in that house. They were a normal, happy family. I’m telling you; he didn’t do this.”
“If he didn’t, then who did?” Cooper asked.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m hiring your agency to find out.”
Tessman was impressed by how calm she was.
He could tell she wanted to scream that answer at them, but she didn’t.
She was presenting a calm and rational case, the lawyer in her, no doubt.
“If that’s true, someone made it look like murder-suicide,” Jackson said.
“Yes,” Becca agreed.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Recapping the police report, we obtained it from Detective Davis,” Jackson began, “it was noted that all the doors were locked. There was no forced entry. Nothing was disturbed in the house indicating a struggle, and nothing was stolen.”
“That we know of,” she interrupted.
“You haven’t been inside the house yet?” Tessman asked, knowing from the police report that she hadn’t.
“No,” she said, glancing away and for the first time not looking so collected.
“The police just released the scene yesterday, but I’m not ready to see it yet. Detective Davis described the condition of the house to me, the blood, and the cleaning that will be needed. I’ve contacted a crime scene clean-up company he recommended. They can’t come out until the day after tomorrow.”
“But Detective Davis went over the contents with you, and it appeared nothing was taken,” Tessman said.
“Yes. My sister had some jewelry that wasn’t cheap. It’s still in her jewelry box on her dresser. They always kept several hundred dollars in one of the kitchen cabinets. It was still there. All the electronics in the house, including their phones and laptops, were there too.”
“Is that all?” Jackson asked.
“Are those your reasons why you don’t believe your brother-in-law did it?”
Becca tried to hide her reaction to that question.
She was undecided how far she could trust them.
But this was her only opportunity to hire them.
“Is there some sort of client privilege relationship you extend that would keep anything I tell you between us?”
“Between us?” Jackson repeated.
“Yes, anything you share would be kept between us. Who would you not want to know what you’re about to tell us?”
Becca knew these people were her only hope.
“The police. I have some information that was leaked to me from a member of the forensic crew at the state police lab that I wouldn’t want to get back to the police. My source would get in trouble for telling me.”
Tessman waited for Cooper or Jackson to comment on that statement.
He focused on Becca Elliot and still saw no hint of insecurity coming from her.
“What were you told?” Jackson finally asked.
“It’s the GSR pattern that was present on Nick,” she said.
“It isn’t right. There was GSR on his right hand and shoulder, and down his right arm that is consistent with holding a gun to your head when you fire.” She held her hand up, her index finger to her own temple in the position one would expect in a suicide.
“But there was very little present on the front of his shirt, and none on his left hand or arm, as you’d expect when a person holds a gun out in front of themselves and shoots someone else.” She moved her arms out in front of herself as though she were holding a gun out to shoot.
“And certainly not the quantity that should be present if he’d shot three people.”
Tessman stared at her while he processed this information.
She still looked confident.
“And there’s more. They only lifted a couple of sets of Nick’s prints from the outside of the gun. His prints were not on the magazine or any of the remaining bullets in the magazine. So, how’d he load it? Why would he wear gloves? And there were no other prints on the gun but Nick’s. Unless he or someone else wiped the gun to eliminate the prints, there’d be others. It was clean. Too clean.”
“And you said this information came to you from a member of the State Police Forensic Services Department?” Jackson said.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“We’ll need to verify this information,” Jackson said.
“I won’t give you the name unless I get in writing that you won’t divulge it to anyone else, especially the police.”
“Duly noted,” Cooper said.
He passed a pad of paper and a pen across the table to her.
“The name, please. And you have my word we won’t divulge your source.”
Becca wrote the name down and provided the phone number.
“I want your assurance in writing, please.”
Cooper scribbled out a note guaranteeing the source would remain confidential, and he handed it to her.
“Any other reasons you don’t believe the determination was correct?” Jackson asked.
Tessman was sure what she’d said was enough to justify them taking the case.
The GSR and fingerprint information were more than enough, as far as he was concerned.
“Motive,” she said. “As I said, there were no marital problems, no money problems, no mental illness. There was no reason at all he would have done this. And I also restate the fact that it wasn’t in his comfort to handle a gun, and my God, a nine-millimeter? Pardon me stating it so bluntly, but isn’t that overkill? A nine-millimeter is powerful. The thought of handling that gun would have scared the crap out of Nick.”
“But you know of no reason anyone else would want to kill anyone in that house?” Cooper asked.
Becca’s gaze swept over all four of them.
She’d been sizing each of them up since she’d entered the room.
The young woman with the southern accent, Brielle, believed her.
She could tell by how Brielle empathetically nodded whenever she said anything.
Jackson was at least ten years Brielle’s senior, the man who sat in a middle power position, but wasn’t the determining voice was attentive, and she could see how he processed each answer she gave.
Tessman, the younger man beside him, also in a middle power position who she judged to be a junior member of the team not only due to his age but also because he didn’t speak as much, believed her.
And Cooper, the man on the end.
He was the decision maker on the team.
His manner broadcast his position.
“No, I know of no other motive anyone would have for wanting to kill any of them,” Becca answered firmly.
“They were just a normal suburban family.”
“Do you know the contents of their wills? And who is the executor?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, I prepared their trust, and I am the executor of that trust,” Becca replied.
“In the event of either Nick or Nicole’s death’s the other inherited everything. If both of them were to die together, everything would go to their girls, with me given full custody of them.” Becca paused and took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
With them still closed, she continued.
“In the event all four went together, their entire estate goes to me.”
“Were there no other family members?” Jackson asked.
Becca opened her eyes.
“Nick was estranged from his entire family. He didn’t even want me to try to find them should something happen to them. He doesn’t even know if any are alive. His parents divorced when he was young, and he had little contact with his father. His mother never remarried but had multiple boyfriends who lived with them over the years. He had a brother and a sister, both of which are drug addicts who stole from them the last time he allowed them into his life after he and Nicole got married. And on our side of the family, it was just Nicole and me. Our parents died in a small plane crash last year.”
“I’m sorry,” Tessman said.
“We’re going to need the names and any information on your brother-in-law’s estranged relatives,” Jackson said.
“Sure. But I don’t know much more than their names and approximate ages,” she said.
“Last known locations will help too,” Brielle added.
Becca nodded.
“Last topic,” Jackson said.
“They were both employed at Well-Life Pharmaceuticals.”
“Yes. Nicole was in the marketing department, and Nick was a chemist.”
“What was he working on?” Tessman asked.
Becca shrugged and shook her head.
“It was all hush-hush, proprietary stuff. He wasn’t allowed to talk about the latest cure he was working on. He developed drugs. He was one of their top chemists. I doubt there’s much in his home office about his work because I don’t think he was supposed to remove anything from work of consequence, but you’re free to look.”
Jackson nodded.
“If we accept the case, we will want access to the house.”
She took the key ring with the key to her sister’s house from her purse and placed it in the middle of the table.
Cooper stood and stepped to the door.
“Can we ask you to please wait in the lobby while we discuss your case?”
Becca stood.
At the door, she turned back to the three members who still sat at the table.
Cooper had already stepped into the hallway, anticipating that she’d follow.
“Thank you for hearing me out. Please know that if you decline this case, I will keep asking private investigators to take it on until someone does.” Then she stepped through the door and followed Cooper to the door into the waiting room.
Angel, the black-haired receptionist, was not at her desk.
She sat down and waited.
Cooper re-entered the conference room a few moments after he’d shown Becca Elliot out.
“If she’s right about the GSR and fingerprints, I’m not sure how the coroner would have made the ruling.”
“Toxicology isn’t even back yet,” Jackson added.
“I’d sure like to know if there were any drugs in anyone’s system.”
“I believe her,” Brielle said.
“And I think the cops are dropping the ball on this.”
Cooper’s gaze went to Tessman.
“This isn’t cut and dried, as Detective Davis stated. And as Jackson said during our meeting with Shepherd, if the brother-in-law did do it, which I don’t think he did, I’d like to be able to find the reason to give that woman closure.”
“Why don’t you think he did it?” Cooper asked.
“Most people who buy a gun are going to at least test fire it before they use it to commit a triple homicide and use it for their suicide. If he did, he would have been scared off by the kick and loud bang if he wasn’t a gun guy, as she stated,” Tessman said.
“And there would have been fingerprints all over that gun and its magazine.”
“Agreed,” Cooper said.
“I’ll tell Shepherd we have a case. I’ll show her back in and you three can take it from here.”
“Good luck on your Op,” Jackson said.
“Becca, we’re ready for you,” Cooper said after he’d opened the door to the waiting room.
Becca wasn’t sure what it meant that they’d already decided, or at least she assumed they’d decided if they were going to accept her case.
She followed Cooper back into the suite.
As the two of them stepped back towards the conference room, Angel approached from down the hall.
She smiled as they passed in the hallway, putting Becca somewhat at ease.
She entered the conference room and retook her seat.
She heard the door close and then, glancing around the room, realized Cooper had not rejoined them.
“Becca, we all agree there is more to look into. We accept your case,” Jackson said.
Then he laid out the fee structure the agency charged.
It honestly didn’t matter to her.
Finding the truth was what mattered, not what it cost. She didn’t care if Nicole and Nick’s entire estate went to finding out who killed them.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“We’ll do a deep dive into them, bank accounts, social media presence from their own devices once you get them back from the police, which should be soon. Tessman and I will go to their house this afternoon. We’ll talk to other people who knew them, neighbors, coworkers, friends. Give us a couple of days and we’ll be back in touch,” Jackson said.
“I didn’t ask when I’d get their phones and computers back,” Becca admitted.
“We’ll contact Detective Davis and let him know we accepted the case and see if we can get them,” Jackson said.
“There are a lot of papers they took from the office and the safe in the office that I need to settle their estate,” Becca said.
“We can ask Detective Davis about those, too,” Tessman said.
“Did Davis say when the bodies would be released and what are your plans for them?” Jackson asked.
This question caused Becca’s breath to catch in her chest. “Yes, I have to contact the funeral home back about that. They told me to notify them when the coroner has released them.”
“Trust me, I’m not making any judgements of you, but you seem to be handling this very well. I’d be a blubbering mess if my sister and her family were murdered,” Brielle said.
“I’m past tears,” Becca said.
“I cried my eyes out; not sure I have any tears left. I think I’ve already gone through the stages of grief a couple of times, and I’m stuck on anger. I’m mad at the police for closing this case and ruling as they did. I’m angry, no make that pissed off that this happened to them. I have nightmares about what happened in that house.”
Brielle reached across the table and laid her hand on top of Becca’s.
“I hope we can help make those nightmares go away. I get it. I have a sister I am very close to.”
Becca appreciated her empathy.
“Thank you.” Then her gaze swept across the faces of the two men.
“Have you spoken to anyone since they were killed? A mental health professional?” Brielle asked.
“A shrink? No,” Becca said.
“There’s a good one in this building. Dr. Joe Lassiter. If you decide to reach out to him, you can tell him that we’re handling your case,” Brielle said.
“Thank you, I’ll think about it.”
***
Jackson and Tessman drove over to the DeSoto residence.
They let themselves in with the key Becca had given them.
Even though the bodies had been removed, the unmistakable smell of death lingered in the air.
They both took a cursory glance at the front door locking mechanism, doorjamb, and door knob.
As indicated in the police report, there was no damage or marks to any of them.
No one forced their way in through the front.
The footfalls of their boots on the ceramic tiled entry were the only sound in the house.
It was eerily silent.
Tessman gazed in the direction of the hallway, where he knew from the report that Nick DeSoto’s body was found, still within view of the front door side window.
To the right of the entry was the open space of the formal living room.
Its windows had light filtering honeycomb blinds.
Even though they were lowered, the room was very bright.
They quickly came across the bloodstained section of hardwood flooring where Nick DeSoto had reportedly killed himself.
The living room wall behind that area held a large splatter of blood.
Tessman took a step around the dried blood on the floor and peered in all directions.
From that spot, not only could the front door be seen but also the short hallway to the left that led to the laundry room, which he clearly saw, the garage past it, he assumed, and in front of him the hallway spilled into the kitchen.
He saw the island with the remainder of the kitchen behind it, and he knew between the two is where Nicole DeSoto’s body was found.
Tessman turned back around to face Jackson.
“Why here? Why kill himself in this spot? If the police are right, he went upstairs and killed his kids first.” He pointed at the staircase, which was on the left side, behind the front door upon entering.
“Then he went into the kitchen and killed his wife. Why did he walk back out here and kill himself here? Why not in the kitchen with his wife? Or seated in a chair someplace?”
“Or his office, his own bedroom, or in the bedroom of one of his kids?” Jackson added, nodding his head in agreement.
“Hell, why not in his car in the garage?” Tessman posed.
“Why this spot? The only reason I can see is that it is visible from the window beside the front door, so he’d be seen. Had the UPS driver not seen him, it could have been days before they were discovered.”
“That’s a little too thought out for a man who, out of the blue, killed his entire family and then himself,” Jackson said.
The two men proceeded into the kitchen.
The blinds on the back of the house were all open and the entire space was bathed in sunlight.
Tessman gave the bloodstained ceramic tile, grout, and blood-splattered white cabinets a glance that lay between the island and the kitchen counters where he knew Nicole Desoto died.
He bypassed the area and stepped over to the large sliding glass door at the far end of the room.
Jackson stopped and was examining the dried bloody mess.
“Nice backyard,” Tessman said, viewing the jungle gym and swings.
“I looked at an aerial view and noticed there were no neighbors behind them. This property backs up to a nature preserve. Anyone could have approached from back there and no one would have seen them.” Then he examined the lock and handle on the sliding door.
He unlocked it and stepped outside.
There, he examined the entire frame.
No scratches or dents.
Nothing to indicate the door had been jimmied.
“This door hasn’t been forced open.”
“There’s blood splatter on the counter. The police forensic unit reported it to support their supposition that Nicole DeSoto ran through the space between the island and the counter and was shot in the back as she fled. Once she was on the ground, she was shot in the head.” His gaze went to the open arched doorway that let into the formal dining room on the far kitchen wall.
“She was heading towards the dining room to get away from the gunman. She’d seen him coming,” deduced Jackson.
“That’s some good shooting for someone who’s never fired a gun before, hit a moving target and then have the aim and balls to take the kill shot to the head.”
“Steady hand, not nervous, that’s for sure,” Jackson surmised.
“I don’t recall the police report stating how many rounds were left in the magazine.”
“We’ll have to look into that. It didn’t say,” Tessman answered.
“If there weren’t at least five rounds missing from the magazine, I’m sure that would have been noted. I’d hope so at least.”
Tessman walked into the family room area adjacent to the kitchen and eating area.
He looked around. Nothing seemed out of place or out of the ordinary.
Becca would be the one to determine that, though.
While he glanced over family pictures of happy times for the family that were hung on the walls, Jackson wandered into the dining room.
Tessman studied the kids’ toys against the wall and was reminded that was what Wilson’s living room now looked like; a child’s play area set up in the main TV room.
There were no papers or mail lying around, no clutter on the tables beyond coasters and a couple of candles.
He stepped back to the kitchen.
On the edge of the counter, he found a stack of mail.
It was all open and appeared to have been gone through.
He wondered if the police had done that or the adults who lived here.
He flipped through the stack.
It was all normal, routine stuff, utility bills, junk mail flyers, a doctor’s bill from Schaumburg Pediatric with a co-pay of twenty-five dollars due from a visit for Riley DeSoto the month before.
“Let’s find Nick’s office and take a look,” Jackson said, reentering the room.
“Nothing in the dining room or living room look disturbed.”
“Family room and kitchen eating areas as well are undisturbed.”
“One thing is bothering me,” Jackson said.
“This whole house is too clean and uncluttered. Did people with two kids really live here?” He pointed to the family room area.
“Angel is amazing, but our house is never that picked up. It’s impossible with two kids to have every toy put in its place. I even walked into the powder room. There wasn’t a water splash mark anywhere on the counter or mirror.”
“Maybe it had just been cleaned,” Tessman said.
“We’ll have to ask Becca if they had a weekly cleaner come in.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Jackson said.
“Let’s check the basement next. The down staircase is off the entry.”
Jackson led the way.
Tucked around the corner near the laundry room was a staircase leading down.
They turned the wall switch on, illuminating lights on the stairs, and they could see beyond where the last stair ended on the basement floor.
The basement was unfinished.
On one half of the large open space, shelves lined the wall and boxes and totes lined the shelves.
On the other side, there were ride-on toys and other play equipment that looked like they were meant for outside but had been brought inside to play with during the winter.
Past them was a kitchen table and chairs with paint brushes and large sheets of paper with a shelf full of craft supplies beyond it.
The two men checked the two escape windows for any hint that either had been forced open.
Neither found anything.
They returned to the main level and then climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Tessman didn’t even have a kid, and he was dreading seeing the two bedrooms the kids were killed in.
The first room they came to at the top of the stairs was the parent’s bedroom.
They took a look around it and the attached bathroom.
Besides being very clean and uncluttered, they found nothing concerning.
Tessman rifled through the closet that held male clothing.
He remembered that on the police report of items removed from the home, there was no mention of anything gun related.
No gun box, no ammo, no cleaning supplies, no hearing protection.
Even as he searched, he knew it was probably foolish.
The police would have looked everywhere.
“What are you looking for?” Jackson asked.
“I know the police searched thoroughly and there was no mention, but I’m just looking for anything gun-related. Unless he bought the gun on the street, it would have come in a storage box.”
“The police searched everywhere, inside and out,” Jackson said.
“I’m surprised they didn’t find a box of ammo anywhere. Where’d he load the weapon and where’s the rest of the ammo from the box?”
The room next to the parent’s bedroom was the office.
There was a large safe in the closet with the door open.
Detective Davis said they’d obtained the combination from Becca.
All contents had been removed by the police.
It was empty. There was a monitor on the desktop with the docking station, keyboard, and mouse in place, waiting for the laptop to tap into.
It was gone, had been confiscated by the police.
Hanging above the desk was a large collage frame with many family pictures of what looked like a Disney vacation.
Becca was in many of the pictures.
Tessman couldn’t help but look at her beautiful, happy smile while she interacted with her sister and the kids.
He became angry on her behalf that she’d been robbed of her family and would never enjoy more of those times.
A thorough search of the office revealed no clues to them.
They moved on to the last two bedrooms, which they both dreaded.
They didn’t spend much time in either room knowing the police had thoroughly searched them.
They just viewed the beds with the bloodstains and blood-splatter on the walls and bedding, and then they did a quick look at the hall bathroom, which was also clean.
“There’s not even a glob of toothpaste in the sink,” Jackson said.
“Those kids didn’t brush their teeth before bed, or the sink was cleaned after. Either that or Sammy is just a hell of a lot messier than any other kid. He can’t brush his teeth without leaving a trace of the toothpaste in the bowl of the sink.”
“Are you saying you think someone cleaned this place up after the murders?” Tessman asked.
“We’ll have to ask Becca if Nick was OCD. Maybe he was some kind of neat freak who wouldn’t want the police or anyone else in here with it less than immaculate,” Jackson said.
“So, he had the presence of mind to kill his two kids and then his wife, and then cleanup the entire place, except for the blood, before he shot himself in the foyer? I’m not buying it,” Tessman said.
“Let’s go back downstairs. I want to take a look at the backyard and at the edge of the forest preserve,” Jackson said.
At the top of the stairs, Tessman hit the light switch.
The light over the stairs didn’t come on.
“Burned out?” he questioned.
“We’ll have to ask Becca if it was out the last time she was here.”
Once in the backyard, they both noted it was not as immaculate as the house.
Of course, spring was only just upon them and most people had just begun the winter cleanup around their yards.
There was a jungle gym climbing fort with swings that looked like it had been used recently.
At what they assumed to be the property line between the house and the forest preserve, there were several depressions in the ground that looked like footprints.
Both men acknowledged the indentations could have been made by the police, as it was assumed they too would have checked this area out.
Tessman wandered into the taller grass and shrubs at the boundary, which stretched for about ten feet before the tree line.
He found nothing notable.
Just within the tree line, there was trampled tall grass behind a thick tree trunk.
There, he also found several cigarette butts.
They looked fresh, well, smoked and left there within the last few weeks.
They hadn’t been buried under snow.
They collected the butts in a baggie.
They would talk to Detective Davis about them.