CHAPTER SEVEN

C HAPTER S EVEN

Officer Frank and Detective Seicinski had asked Shannon to stay seated. The medical examiner had arrived, and they would be back soon. Alone with her thoughts, Shannon was drawn to whatever was stuck to the splintered wood. She walked that way. It was a piece of fabric, soft flannel with jagged edges. No bigger than a nickel. When her fingers brushed over the small bit of cloth, it dropped to the floor as she heard someone descending the stairs.

It was Detective Seicinski. Her suspicious eyes bored into Shannon’s. “Why don’t we take a seat?”

“Can I wash my hands?” Shannon asked.

Detective Seicinski took note of the blood. “Not yet. We’ll need photographs.”

Another man walked through the front door. He stood well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered with a thick neck. “I came as soon as I could.” His voice sounded scratchy and rough.

“This is Detective Toye. He’ll be working the case with me.”

Shannon set her gaze on Detective Toye and said hello. He didn’t respond in kind, hardly sparing her a glance. The man appeared surly, bordering on hostile. In contrast, he made Detective Seicinski look approachable and pleasant. Shannon took a seat on the couch.

Detective Seicinski didn’t waste any time getting down to business. She pulled out her phone, jabbed her finger at it, and scrolled. “I’m Detective Seicinski.”

“Officer Frank told me you were coming.”

“Your name is Shannon Gibbons, and you live a few doors away. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“If you don’t mind, it would be helpful if you could tell me what happened this morning.”

Shannon’s heart was beating fast. Too fast. She had done nothing wrong. “Um, after my daughter left for school this morning, I came to see Rosella as planned.”

“What time was that?”

“Our meeting was set for eight. Rosella was upset when I arrived late yesterday, so I made sure to be at least five minutes early. When I knocked, I noticed the door was ajar, which surprised me.”

“Why would that surprise you?”

“When I met with Rosella yesterday, she was worried someone was watching her. She thought everyone in the neighborhood was out to get her. That’s why my first thought was, Why would she not lock her door?”

“I see.” Unlike Officer Frank, who had used paper and pen, the detective took notes directly on her cell phone. When she was done, she raised her gaze to meet Shannon’s. “And what did you do after you noticed the door was open?”

“I pushed the door wide enough to see inside and call out to Rosella. She didn’t answer.”

“And you entered the home anyway?”

“I thought I heard something,” Shannon said in her defense.

“And what was it you thought you heard?”

“I’m not sure. A squeaky noise. The creak of a floor, maybe.”

“Go on,” the detective prompted.

“I stepped inside. It was quiet, and I was at a loss of what to do. On one hand, I didn’t want to interrupt Rosella if she was working, but on the other, I didn’t think it was right to leave without letting her know I had arrived as scheduled.”

“What did you do next?”

Shannon skipped the part about seeing pictures of Rosella hanging out with high-profile celebrities and the bizarre room paying homage to her dead son. “I went upstairs and noticed the office doors were shut. I didn’t want to enter, but—”

“Why would you hesitate at that point?”

Shannon sighed. “Because I thought I would find Rosella standing at the window overlooking the neighborhood with a pair of binoculars in hand.”

The detective’s hand grasping the iPhone dropped to her side. “Maybe we should start from the beginning.”

“The beginning?”

Detective Seicinski nodded. “How long have you known Rosella Marlow?”

“She first emailed me to see if I would be interested in working with her six months ago.”

Detective Seicinski made a note before saying, “Officer Frank said you were new to the area.”

“Yes. We’ve only been here for a week. My house is a mess. Boxes everywhere. We—”

“Let’s back up,” Detective Seicinski said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a stay-at-home mom,” Shannon answered.

“Do you have any experience in journalism?”

“I have a degree in journalism.”

“Six months ago, when Rosella Marlow emailed you out of the blue, you had never met her before?”

“Correct.”

Detective Toye frowned. “Hold on a minute,” he said. “One of the premier journalists in the country reached out to you to see if you would be interested in working with her? Don’t you find that a little odd?”

“I did,” Shannon said. “I mean, I still do.”

Detective Seicinski said, “Why don’t you tell us more about what the email said?”

Shannon spent the next twenty minutes telling the detectives everything. About her desire to become a journalist, and how she’d always idolized Rosella, and how shocked she was when she received Rosella’s email, thinking it had to be a mistake. She told the detectives about her husband landing a job at Sutter Hospital, and the house coming up for sale, and Rosella’s job offer. The story ended with finding Rosella slumped over her desk, soaked in blood, and the loud thumping of footfalls as someone ran past Rosella’s office, down the stairs, and out the door.

Detective Seicinski appeared skeptical. “Was it a man or a woman you saw leave the house?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Shannon said. “The person rushed by in a blur. It all happened so fast. I was holding on to Rosella’s wrist, trying to get a pulse, when they ran past. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, they were gone.”

“And after that?”

Shannon put a hand to her forehead, tried to think. “I called 911, then I saw Rosella move and told her help was on the way.” She put a hand to her stomach. “There was so much blood, the raspy voice ... I feel sick.”

“Lower your head to your knees,” Seicinski told her. “Now take a couple of breaths.”

Shannon did as she said. After a minute passed, she lifted her head and inhaled.

“We’re almost done, okay?”

Shannon nodded.

“After you called 911, you saw Rosella move, and she spoke to you?”

“I think she was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying.”

“Take your time.”

“It sounded like she said Willis , but then she started coughing. It was awful.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“I thought she said the word son and He’s here . Do you think it’s possible she was dying and she thought she saw Daniel?”

They didn’t answer.

“After she spoke,” Shannon went on, “I felt for a pulse, but there wasn’t one.” In the entryway, Shannon heard two men talking about the primary bedroom being a mess, drawers open, items tossed about, and how jewelry appeared to have been stolen.

“It could be a burglary gone bad,” one of the men said. “Whoever it was snuck inside, pocketed some jewelry, found the lady in the other room, and quickly plunged the letter opener into her neck before the victim had time to scream.”

Detective Seicinski cleared her throat, prompting Officer Frank to peek inside the living room. “You’re needed upstairs, Detective.”

“Can I go home now?” Shannon asked.

Detective Seicinski held up a finger to stop Officer Frank from running off. “I need the photographer to take pictures of Mrs. Gibbons’s hands.”

Officer Frank headed off to do her bidding.

“You look pale,” Detective Seicinski said. “Do you need help getting home?”

“No. I just need to go home and lie down for a minute. I’ll be okay.”

“I may need to speak with you again.”

“I have all her personal information,” Office Frank said as he walked back into the room with a tall, lanky man holding a camera.

Detective Seicinski slipped her phone into her coat pocket. “We’re done here. After pictures have been taken, Mrs. Gibbons, you can go.”

Behind the detective, two EMTs rolled out a gurney with Rosella zipped up in a body bag.

“You’re not planning on leaving town?” the detective asked. “No vacations scheduled?”

“No,” Shannon said, feeling jittery and uncomfortable, as if she had done something wrong. “I have no plans to go anywhere.”