Читать книгу The Officer's Secret - Debby Giusti - Страница 10

Chief Warrant Officer Nathaniel Patterson, U.S. Army Criminal Investigation Division, got the call at 0315. Possible suicide at Quarters 1448 Hunter Road.

Arriving fifteen minutes later, he parked behind two MP sedans and stepped from his car, adjusting his weapon on his hip. Although Nate hadn’t known Major Bennett, the death of an officer was significant, and tonight, the combined resources of the military police and the army’s major crime unit, the CID, had been called in to investigate the case.

Headlights signaled an approaching vehicle. Nate waited as his friend and fellow agent, Jamison Steele, crawled from his late-model sports car. Dressed in a tweed sports coat and gray trousers, he looked like a fashionable young executive in contrast to Nate’s run-of-the-mill navy blazer and khaki slacks.

With a hasty nod, Jamison fell into step beside Nate and followed him up the front steps in silence. Before either man could knock, Corporal Robert Mills opened the door. The young MP had the makings of a future CID special agent if he learned to keep his somewhat self-centered ego in check. Nate chalked it up to youth. Hopefully over time, his impetuous nature would mellow.

Raising his right hand to his forehead, Mills saluted the two warrant officers. “Evening, Mr. Patterson. Mr. Steele.”

The agents returned the salute and stepped into the brightly lit foyer. Nate glanced into the living room where a woman sat huddled in a high-backed chair. Blue-green eyes looked up with the hollow stare of shock he’d seen too many times at crime scenes. The raw emotion written so clearly on her face brought home the tragic reality of what had happened tonight.

Their eyes met and held for an instant, causing an unexpected warmth to curl through Nate’s gut. Then, tugging on a strand of her auburn hair, she dropped her gaze, breaking their momentary connection and leaving Nate with an emptiness he couldn’t explain. Probably the middle-of-the-night phone call and his attempt to respond as quickly as possible that had thrown him slightly out of sync.

Or maybe it was the woman—a family member, perhaps.

Putting a human face on the tragedy—a very pretty face—intensified his desire to learn the truth about what had happened tonight. Nate was good at what he did. Tonight he wanted to be even better. The woman deserved as much. So did the victim waiting for him upstairs.

Bottom line, the army took care of its own in life and especially so in death. He motioned Corporal Mills into the kitchen as Jamison headed upstairs. Nate pulled out a small notebook and ballpoint pen from his breast pocket then, lowering his voice, he nodded toward the living room. “So who’s the woman?”

“She’s the sister of the deceased, sir. Name’s Margaret Bennett, but she goes by Maggie. She found the major’s body in the attic.”

Nate knew how tough it was to lose a sibling. He thought of his own brother. Although eight years had separated them in age, they’d always been close.

He scribbled Maggie’s name on a blank page of his notebook. “Apparent suicide?”

“Roger that, sir. Major Bennett hung herself from a rafter. Sergeant Thorndike’s upstairs. He wanted me to check for prints.”

A half-empty bottle of cabernet sat on the counter. Nate pointed to a wineglass, stained with residue. “Be sure to send off a toxicology sample on whatever’s in the bottom of that glass.”

“Yes, sir.”

Opening the dishwasher, Nate used a latex glove he pulled from his pocket and lifted a second wineglass onto the counter. “Check the bottle and both glasses for prints. Let me know what you find.”

“Will do, sir.”

Nate nodded his thanks to Mills, returned the notebook to his pocket and grabbed a water glass from the cabinet, which he filled from the tap. Leaving the kitchen, he approached the woman in the living room.

“Excuse me, ma’am. I thought you might be thirsty.”

Maggie Bennett glanced up with tear-filled eyes and a drawn face that expressed the heartbreak of a deeply personal loss. The two sisters must have been close. His heart went out to her, understanding all too well the pain she must be feeling.

“I’m Special Agent Nate Patterson, U.S. Army Criminal Investigation Division.” With his free hand, he pulled out his CID identification, although he doubted Ms. Bennett would question his credentials. At the moment, she looked like a frightened stray caught in a trap. A beautiful stray, he decided, noting her high cheekbones, arched brows and full lips. But her strikingly good looks were overshadowed by a blanket of grief that lay like a black veil over her alabaster skin.

“I’m the lead investigator on this case, ma’am. Please accept my condolences as well as the heartfelt sympathy of the CID and the Military Police Corps here at Fort Rickman.”

She bit her lip, then mumbled a broken, “Thank…thank you.”

“I’ll be upstairs for a few minutes. When I return I’d like to talk to you about your sister.” He placed the water on the end table.

She gave a brief, pained smile of thanks at the offered glass and then looked back at him. “Yes, of course. Whatever you need to know.”

Nate climbed the stairs to the second floor, feeling the weight of Maggie’s grief resting on his shoulders. He’d give her a few minutes to gather strength before he saddled her with the endless questions that any death investigation required.

Reaching the second landing, Nate glanced into the home office on the right where Corporal Raynard Otis attempted to access the victim’s laptop computer files. The soldier looked up, a full smile spreading across his honey-brown face. “Hey, sir. How’s it going?”

“You tell me, Ray.”

“Should have something for you shortly.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Nate continued on to the open attic door. Rapid flashes of light confirmed the military photographer was already on the job. Within the hour, photos would appear on Nate’s computer, systematically capturing every detail of the attic scene.

On the opposite side of the hallway, Jamison questioned a military policewoman and jotted down pertinent information she shared, information the CID team would review over and over again until all the facts were in and a determination could be made about the actual cause of death. Foul play needed to be ruled out. Hopefully, the case would be open and shut.

Climbing the stairs to the attic, Nate eyed the rafter and the thick hemp rope wrapped around the sturdy crossbeam. Without forethought, he touched his breast pocket where he had tucked the notebook, containing Maggie’s name, as if to shield her from the grim reality of her sister’s death. Lowering his gaze, he took in the victim’s black hair and swollen face.

God rest her soul. The prayer surfaced from his past. His mother’s influence, no doubt. She had raised him to be a believer, although his faith had never been strong, and for the past eight months, he had tuned God out of his life completely.

Once again, his hand sought the notebook as his eyes refocused on the body.

Death by strangulation was never pretty, yet despite the victim’s contorted features, he recognized the same classic beauty that the very much alive sister sitting downstairs possessed. The deceased, with her low-cut silk blouse and snug-fitting leggings, appeared to be the more flamboyant sibling in contrast to Maggie’s modest jeans and sweater, but appearances could lie, and more than anything else, Nate needed the truth.

A chair lay at Major Bennett’s feet. Classic suicide scenario. In all probability, the victim had stood on the chair to secure the rope around the crossbeam and the noose around her neck. Kicking over the chair would leave her hanging and preclude the major from saving herself, should she have second thoughts about taking her own life.

Staff Sergeant Larry Thorndike stepped forward. The military policeman was mid-fifties with a receding hairline and an extra twenty pounds of weight around his middle.

“The victim worked in Headquarters Company of the 2nd Transportation Battalion,” Staff Sergeant Thorndike offered as Nate glanced his way. “The major redeployed home from Afghanistan fourteen days ago as part of the advance party.”

“Same unit that had two casualties in Afghanistan this week?” Nate asked.

“That’s right, sir. Captain York—the company commander—and his driver hit an improvised explosive device. Now this. It’s hard on the unit. Hard on everyone.”

Nate knew all too well the tragic consequences an IED could cause. Was that what had led to the major’s suicide? Had she felt in any way responsible for the captain’s death? “How long before the medical examiner gets here?”

“The ME should be here any minute.”

“Did you talk to the sister?”

The sergeant nodded. “But only briefly. She’s pretty shook up.”

An understatement from what Nate had seen.

“Ms. Bennett had enough sense to call for help,” Sergeant Thorndike continued. “When I arrived she was white as a sheet and hyperventilating. Said she lives in Independence, Alabama. Received a phone call at approximately 2330 hours from the deceased. The victim sounded anxious, according to the sister. Major Bennett had fought with her estranged husband, Graham Hughes, shortly before the phone call.”

“The major used her maiden name?”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Has the husband been notified?”

“Negative. We’re trying to track him down. Evidently he moved out a few days after Major Bennett arrived stateside.”

“Alert the post chaplain to a possible notification of next of kin. I’ll want to talk to the husband. Let me know when you find out where he’s staying.”

“Will do, sir.” The sergeant unclipped his cell phone from his belt and stepped to the corner of the attic to call the chaplain.

Nate neared the body. He examined the knots that formed the noose and then the victim’s neck and hands, noting her intact skin. No signs of struggle. Blood had pooled in her extremities, consistent with death by hanging and the beginnings of rigor mortis. It all looked like a textbook suicide, and yet… Something about it bothered him, and it took a minute to put his finger on it.

The sergeant closed his cell. “Chaplain Grant will be here shortly, sir.”

Nate pointed to the victim’s bare feet. “Where are her shoes?”

“Main floor, sir. Under a table by the door.”

“It’s a cold night. Why would Major Bennett walk around her house without shoes?”

The sergeant shrugged. “You got me there, sir.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Nate turned as Major Brett Hansen, the pathologist and medical examiner on post stepped into the attic. “Good to see you, Nate.”

“Sir.”

The major nodded to the sergeant and photographer. “What do we have here, gentlemen?”

Nate filled him in on the somewhat limited information accumulated so far. Wasting no time, the doc slipped on latex gloves and began his visual exam of the victim’s body. Once complete, Sergeant Thorndike would lower her to the floor so additional forensic evidence could be gathered.

Knowing the procedure would take time, Nate descended the stairs to the first floor where the bereaved sister sat, legs crossed and head resting in her hands.

Peering into the kitchen, he saw Mills bent over the wine bottle. “Find anything yet?”

The MP looked up. “The glass you pulled from the dishwasher had been wiped clean, sir. We might get lucky on the bottle.”

“Good man.”

Entering the living room, Nate glanced, once again, at the grief-stricken woman. She appeared fragile as a butterfly and, no doubt, was devastated by what she’d discovered tonight. As much as he hated to disturb her, Nate needed information.

Moving closer, he touched her shoulder. The knit of her sweater was soft to his fingertips. “Ms. Bennett? Maggie?”

She looked up, startled. The pain in her eyes cut through him like a well-aimed laser beam.

“If I could have a few minutes of your time, ma’am.”

Fatigue lined her oval face, but her ashen coloring concerned him more. She had found her sister’s body and was surrounded by law enforcement personnel trying to make sense of a tragic death. No one had time to offer her more than a perfunctory word of compassion or support.

He glanced at the empty glass on the end table. “Would you like more water?”

She shook her head and rubbed her hands over her arms. “Thank you, no.”

“If you’re cold, I could raise the thermostat?”

“I… I’m just tired.”

“Of course.” He pulled up a chair. “Could you tell me what happened tonight?”

When she didn’t answer, he scooted closer. “I know it’s difficult.”

She nodded. “Dani called me. She was upset…almost hysterical. She had told her husband she wanted a divorce.”

Nate removed the notebook and pen from his pocket. He needed to put aside the fact that this woman ignited a spark of interest deep within him and focus instead on the questions he had to ask and she, hopefully, would be able to answer.

“Graham…” Maggie hesitated. “My sister’s husband wanted them to reconcile.”

“Go on.” Painfully aware of the heat that continued to warm his gut, Nate swallowed hard and concentrated on the information Maggie began to recount.

“They…they had argued. Graham was upset. But then so was my sister. Dani told him to leave. Obviously, he…he came back later and—”

When she failed to complete the statement, Nate asked, “When did your sister and Mr. Hughes marry?”

“Dani ran into him shortly after she transferred here to Rickman. That was two years ago. They dated a few months. She sent me a wedding announcement after they were married.”

“You attended the ceremony?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

Could Maggie’s dislike of her brother-in-law stem from being excluded from their wedding? Nate drew a question mark on his tablet before asking, “Did you know Graham?”

“Yes.”

“Had infidelity been an issue?”

She wiped her hand over her cheek and sniffed. “Not that Dani mentioned. But when we met for lunch last week, she told me that their marriage was over.”

Nate nodded as he continued writing. “When you entered the house, did anything indicate Graham had been here?”

“A bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. Dani never drank red wine.”

“What about her husband?”

“I… I don’t know. When I was upstairs, I heard footsteps on the first floor.” Maggie bit her lip and shook her head ever so slightly, her eyes widening with realization. “Graham must have been in the house the whole time I was searching for my sister.”

“Did you see Graham Hughes?”

“No, but it had to be him.”

Had to was supposition. Maggie seemed eager to place blame on her brother-in-law’s shoulders. Too eager? No matter how unlikely, if Major Bennett’s death were ruled a homicide, the beautiful woman sitting next to Nate could end up being a person of interest, as well.

“Was the front door locked when you arrived?”

Maggie nodded. “I knocked. Dani had mentioned being tired. I thought she might be sleeping. When she didn’t answer the door, I used the key she had given me when we met for lunch.”

“Did your sister say why she wanted you to have a key to her house when you lived so far apart?”

“No, and I didn’t ask for an explanation. Dani and I had been estranged for a few years. I was relieved that we were trying to patch up our differences.”

“What type of differences?”

She lowered her gaze and uncrossed her legs. Nate watched her body language. Her refusal to make eye contact was telling.

Finally she shrugged and tried to smile. “Two women going their separate ways. Dani went into the military. I pursued a career in family counseling.”

Nate was sure there had been more to the differences than Maggie was willing to admit. “Did Major Bennett invite you to visit this weekend?”

With a quick shake of her head, she said, “Dani was independent. She had a hard time accepting help.”

“Yet—” Nate glanced at the small suitcase in the foyer “—you packed a bag and drove here to be with her.”

“I told Dani she shouldn’t be alone, that I was worried Graham might come back.”

“And Major Bennett shared your concern about her husband?”

“She was more upset about something that had happened in Afghanistan. But she didn’t go into the problem. Only that it was serious.”

Nate raised his brow. “Serious enough to cause her to take her own life?”

Maggie bristled. “My sister didn’t take her life.”

Nate wouldn’t state the obvious, which was that, at this early stage in the investigation, nothing indicated foul play.

“How long ago did you and your sister reconnect?”

“Dani called last week and asked if we could meet for lunch, which we did, in Alabama.”

“Not here on post?”

“That’s right. We met just over the state line in a little town called Hope. There’s a ladies’ tearoom on the square.”

Nate would have someone check out the tearoom. Not that he thought Maggie was lying, but he wanted to ensure the information was accurate before he passed it up the chain of command.

“How did your sister seem? Happy? Sad?”

“She was concerned about her marriage, but she wasn’t depressed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What did you talk about?”

Maggie shrugged. “Her deployment. Being back in the States.”

“Her marriage?”

“Yes, of course. She said marrying Graham had been a mistake.”

“Did she give a reason?”

Maggie shook her head.

“What about growing up? Did you reminisce about the good times?”

“Sure. We were always close as kids.”

“But that changed?” he asked.

“We…we grew apart, as I mentioned.”

“Looking back to your childhood, what thoughts come to mind?”

A hint of a smile tugged at Maggie’s lips. “Running barefoot in the backyard.”

“Sounds as if you and your sister didn’t like shoes.”

“Only when we were little. Dani had a closet full when we were teens.”

“But she went barefoot in the house?”

Maggie wrinkled her brow. “Not that I recall.”

Nate glanced down at his notes. “Let’s go back to the beginning. What happened after you entered the house?”

She explained how she had searched the rooms and, finding nothing, had made her way to the attic. “The upstairs was pitch-black. I couldn’t see anything and waved my hand in the air to find the pull cord for the overhead lightbulb.”

“If you hadn’t been here before, how did you know about the pull cord?”

Angling her head, she paused, as if weighing her words. “My dad was military,” she said at last. “We lived in similar quarters sixteen years ago.”

“At Fort Rickman?”

“That’s right. In this same housing area.”

“A three-year assignment for your dad?”

“Yes, but—”

Maggie clasped her hands then worried her fingers. “My father…” Deep breath. “His tour of duty was cut short.” She looked down as if gathering courage to go on. “Regrettably, my father committed suicide.”

Not what he had expected to hear. Nate fought to keep his expression neutral as she glanced up at him with troubled eyes.

“He hanged himself in the attic of our house.” She leaned closer to Nate. “The similarity in the two deaths proves Dani would never have taken her own life.”

“Because—?”

Her eyes widened as if the conclusion she had drawn was obvious. “Because Dani did everything to overcome the stigma of his death. That’s why she went into the military. She idolized him. Dani tried to be the son he always wanted. Problem was she tried to prove herself to him, even after his death.” She leaned closer. “Don’t you see, for Dani, suicide wouldn’t have been an option?”

Unless Major Bennett wanted to prove how much she loved her father by following him into death. Nate kept that thought to himself.

“You brought up depression earlier. Is there a history of depression or anxiety disorders in your family?”

“None that I know of.”

“Tell me about when you were in the attic. You said the light was off?”

“That’s correct. The moon shone through the window and—” She struggled to find her words.

His voice softened. “That’s when you saw your sister?”

She nodded. Tears pooled in her blue-green eyes and slowly trickled down her cheeks. Nate tried to remain detached despite his desire to wipe away her pain. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and shoved it into her hand, his fingers touching hers for longer than necessary, as if attempting to pass on support.

Maggie seemed oblivious to the way his hand burned where it touched hers. What was happening to his ability to remain neutral? He had been around other attractive women…had dated a few along the way…but no one had ever affected him like the woman sitting close to him.

Nate turned to look over his shoulder as Jamison scurried down the stairs and motioned him into the foyer, providing the reprieve Nate needed. Time to regroup and focus on the internal warning signal that was telling him something unexpected and downright powerful was happening to his status quo.

“Excuse me for a minute.” He rose from the chair and met the agent in the kitchen.

“You okay?” Jamison stared at him with narrowed eyes.

Nate straightened his shoulders. “Yeah, why?”

“You look troubled.”

“An officer died tonight. That is troubling.”

“Of course, it is. The ME is getting ready to release the body. They’ll bring Major Bennett downstairs soon. Might not be good for her sister to watch.”

Jamison was right. Maggie shouldn’t be around when the body was removed.

“What did the doc say?” Nate asked.

“Only that he’ll order a toxicology screen. Drugs and alcohol. As backed up as the lab is at Fort Gillem, I don’t know when we’ll get the results back, though.”

“See what you can find out about Major Bennett’s father,” Nate said. “He was stationed at Rickman sixteen years ago and evidently committed suicide.”

Jamison let out a low whistle. “Quite a coincidence.”

Before Nate could respond, the front door opened and CID agent Kelly McQueen scurried inside and joined the men in the kitchen. She was blond-haired and blue-eyed and the best marksman in the unit.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked after Nate filled her in on what they had learned so far.

“Help me decide where Major Bennett’s sister can stay tonight,” Nate said. “The downtown area has had problems with all the rain. The basement of the Freemont Hotel is flooded, and they’ve shut down temporarily.”

A number of small motels were located immediately off post, but most of them were fleabag rentals that catered to a transient troop population. At this difficult time, Maggie deserved something more ac com mo dating.

“I’ve got an extra room,” Kelly volunteered. “She’s welcome to stay at my place.”

Nate nodded. “That works.”

Kelly was good at her job and had compassion to embrace someone reeling with grief. Her apartment was directly across from Nate’s in the bachelor officer quarters on post so he would be able to keep an eye on Maggie and offer his support.

“I’ll have Mills follow us to the BOQ,” said Nate. “He can bring me back here once I get Maggie settled.”

The corporal responded with a thumbs-up. “Can do, sir. By the way, Ms. Bennett’s driving a silver Saturn. I checked the car and her personal effects. She’s clean.”

“You need authorization.”

Mill’s face darkened.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the wine bottle? Did you find prints?”

“Negative.”

Nate turned back to Jamison. “Pull the major’s medical records and see if there’s any history of psychological problems. Also, check with the main gate and find out what time the sister, and any other guests the major may have had this evening, entered post. Question the neighbors in case the major and her husband aired their dirty laundry and find out if any strange cars or visitors stopped by this evening.”

“Will do,” Jamison said.

“Lieutenant Colonel Foglio lives across the street,” Kelly volunteered. “That teenage son of his is staying with his dad again.”

“The one with the tattoos?” Jamison asked. “What’s his name? Carl, Kurt…?”

“It’s Kyle,” Kelly said. “After the trouble he got into last summer, I didn’t think Lieutenant Colonel Foglio’s current wife would allow the kid back in her house.”

“Be sure to ask Foglio where his son has been this evening,” Nate said to Jamison.

“You got it.”

“Have we located Graham Hughes yet?” Nate asked.

Jamison pulled a notebook from his pocket. “I called his boss. Graham’s a civilian contractor who works for AmeriWorks. After splitting with his wife, he moved in temporarily with a guy who has the desk next to him in the contracting office. The guy’s name is—” Jamison referred to his notes “Arnold Zart. Travels between Fort Rickman and various forward operating bases in Afghanistan. He’s got an apartment off post.”

Nate nodded. “Once we get the sister settled in at Kelly’s place, the chaplain and I will pay Mr. Zart a visit.”

Jamison removed a sheet of paper from his notepad and offered the handwritten note to Nate. “Here’s Zart’s address.”

“Thanks.” Nate stepped back into the living room and motioned Kelly forward. “Maggie, this is Special Agent Kelly McQueen.” Kelly offered a few words of compassion along with a warm smile.

“Agent McQueen has a spare room at her place,” Nate continued. “You’ll be able to get some rest there tonight, and we can talk more in the morning.”

“But I…” Maggie looked around seemingly momentarily confused.

“I’m going home shortly,” Kelly said. “You and Nate can take your time and come over when you’re ready.”

With a final smile, Kelly headed into the foyer just as the front door opened once again. Chaplain Grant, a tall lieutenant colonel with a sincere face, stepped inside.

Nate excused himself from Maggie and approached the chaplain. “Thanks for being here, sir.”

“Terrible shame.”

“Yes, sir.” Nate lowered his voice. “Major Bennett and her husband had separated about a week ago. He’s currently staying with a guy who works with him in the AmeriWorks contracting office on post.”

“Over the phone, Sergeant Thorndike mentioned a sister from Alabama.”

Nate nodded. “She’s had a rough night. The sister’s the one who found the major’s body.” Nate ushered the chaplain toward the living room, introduced him to Maggie and then stepped back, giving the two of them a bit of privacy while the lieutenant colonel offered words of comfort, which Maggie seemed to appreciate.

“Have you talked to your brother-in-law?” the chaplain eventually asked her. When she shook her head, Chaplain Grant turned serious eyes toward Nate. “Might be beneficial to have Maggie with us when we notify Mr. Hughes.”

“Ah, sir—?” Before Nate could register an objection to the idea, the chaplain had refocused his gaze on Maggie.

“I’m sure you and Mr. Hughes have things you’d like to discuss, concerning your sister’s internment, if you feel up to seeing him at this late hour.”

Maggie nodded. “You’re right, Chaplain. I… I need to talk to Graham.”

Nate wasn’t sure whether her current interest in her brother-in-law had to do with discussing the major’s burial or establishing his guilt. Either way, the chaplain had made the offer, and Nate wouldn’t withdraw it now. Besides, seeing the dynamic play out between the victim’s sister and husband might reveal more information than Maggie had been willing to share.

Touching her elbow, Nate encouraged Maggie to stand. Corporal Mills approached, carrying her coat and handbag, which Nate took from him.

Nate handed Maggie her purse and helped her with her coat. “If you give me the keys, I’ll have Mills drive your car to the BOQ and leave it there, while you and the chaplain and I talk to Mr. Hughes.”

“What about Dani?” she asked as she placed the keys in Nate’s outstretched hand.

“She’ll be taken to the morgue. An autopsy will be performed sometime later today. Once you and Mr. Hughes determine how your sister should be buried, her body will be released to the funeral home. If you’d like, I can help you with the arrangements.”

Nate was relieved to see her face soften. She attempted to smile. “Thank you.”

Warmed by her response, he asked, “Is there anyone you’d like to call? A family member? Your mom? Maybe a boyfriend?”

Her eyes clouded as she shook her head. “My mother died a number of years ago. There’s no one else.”

Her loneliness in the midst of her grief cut him deeply. Upstairs the sound of footsteps indicated the body was being prepared for transport. It was time to get Maggie out of the house.

“My car’s outside.” Nate put his hand on the small of Maggie’s back and urged her toward the door Corporal Mills held open. The chaplain grabbed her suitcase and followed them into the damp night air. Maggie wrapped her arms around her waist and accepted Nate’s steadying hand on her elbow as she walked down the steps and settled into the front seat of his car, while the chaplain slid into the rear.

A light went on in the front bedroom of Lieutenant Colonel Foglio’s quarters across the street. The curtain moved ever so slightly.

Looking back at Quarters 1448, Nate’s eyes focused on the attic dormer window. The copycat suicide was unusual, and often little things made a difference in an investigation. The fact that Major Bennett had been barefoot when she died bothered him. But something else troubled Nate more.

The victim would have needed light to loop the rope over the crossbeam. Why would Major Bennett then turn off the light and take her own life in the dark?