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Chapter Twenty-Two

Sylvie Deering January 2025 Saturday — 7:34 pm

The warmth of the dining room gave Sylvie a sense of déjà vu. She had been experiencing such a phenomenon quite a lot lately. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling so much as a warm embrace.

She hadn’t realized until this very moment why she had been so drawn to the two-bedroom house tucked on the outskirts of Georgetown. The layout reminded her of a home from her childhood, from the lofty ceilings to the charming open archways between rooms. Her family had only lived there until she was around seven or eight years old, well before her father had grown his financial company into the behemoth monster that he himself had destroyed with his choices.

Every single good memory from her childhood had been wrapped up in that one house. The only memories after were of an isolated mother, a busy father, and eventually loneliness. Sylvie was at the point in her life where she could separate the good memories from the bad. She was finally at peace, and this was her reward.

“This should be the last one, Sylvie,” Denise Horvat murmured in concentration as she slid a piece of paper over to Sylvie. “This is to confirm the terms of your offer.”

Sylvie sat across from the realtor while signing her name at the bottom of the document. Some forms had needed to be filled out by hand, while others had been completed through an electronic tablet. It wouldn’t be long before everything was online, and these types of sit-downs wouldn’t be needed at all. She clicked the end of the pen after giving back the piece of paper.

The sturdy oak table they occupied was surrounded by cream-cushioned chairs that matched the kitchen cabinets. Beyond the open archway that led to the heart of the house, a farmhouse sink with rustic butcher block counters had been combined to give off a blend of refinement and functionality. She let her gaze wander to the second archway, taking in the polished hardwood floors that extended throughout the two-bedroom house. There was a river rock hearth in the corner of the living room, allowing the main wall to display a large entertainment center with bookcases on either side of a large television.

The prospect of owning her first home filled her with a quiet excitement. So much so that she needed to dispel some of her energy.

Sylvie stood from the chair to check on Theo. He had been working silently in the living room for the past hour. They had run down several leads throughout the afternoon, which had pushed back the appointment with the realtor, who had relayed to her that the homeowner was out of town until tomorrow. Denise had assured Sylvie that the late meeting to put together an offer had been no trouble at all.

“…mother’s house? What about the cousin? Andrea Walker.” Theo paused his questioning, and Sylvie couldn’t quite grasp the topic of the conversation. They had already ruled out Andrea as the individual with the initials AM. “Andrea’s middle name is Lynn. I uploaded her information to the software. Yes, a nurse.”

Theo was standing next to one of the two large windows overlooking the quiet street of the neighborhood while talking on his phone. She assumed that Brook or Bit was on the other end of the line. If he needed her, she hoped that he wouldn’t hesitate to pull her away from the endless amount of paperwork. Then again, he probably would do his best to keep anything of substance from her until every last form was signed.

Sylvie refocused her attention on the little details of the living room. The couch and chairs were made of plush material that made one want to cozy up in front of the fireplace with a soft blanket, a good book, and a hot cup of tea. The realtor had mentioned the couple who owned the house were in the military. They had received orders regarding their next station, which was somewhere in Italy. Sylvie wondered about the possibility of buying some of the contents since the current furniture was part of the house’s charm.

“She’s putting in the offer now,” Theo shared, his eyes locking with hers in the reflection of the window. He flashed her a smile. Outside, snow flurries fell gracefully in the golden glow of the streetlamp. “I figure we’ll be free to drive over there in about twenty minutes.”

Theo had placed his tablet on the coffee table. She thought about retrieving it and reading over the background check on Dr. Nash, but the realtor was calling out to her.

“Congratulations, Sylvie,” Denise reiterated with a smile after securing Sylvie’s attention. “Your offer has been submitted, and I will call you as soon as I hear from the owners.”

“I appreciate that you were so willing to change our appointment time,” Sylvie said as she closed the distance to the table. She shook the woman’s hand before inquiring about the furniture. “You mentioned that the couple needed to sell their house to move overseas. Do you think that they would be interested in selling any of the contents?”

“I’ll ask the sellers if they are willing to part with anything before the move. If you’d like to take one more look around, help yourself. I have a call to make before locking up.”

“Thank you again, Denise.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Sylvie collected her purse and coat that she had hung on the back of her chair before returning to the living room. Theo was still on the phone, so she crossed the floor to the coffee table and picked up his tablet. The first section of Dr. Nash’s background check revealed the woman’s past and professional history.

The fertility specialist had graduated from a prestigious university with top honors and specialized in reproductive endocrinology. Her career was marked by a steady rise in prominence, eventually leading to the establishment of her own clinic.

In her personal life, Dr. Nash had been married once but divorced amicably several years ago. Nothing in her history indicated any connection to their case or reason to suspect her involvement in the murders.

Frustrated by the lack of leads, Sylvie exited the background check. Her intention had been to close down the tablet to save Theo some time, but his email application had been open in the background. The top one just happened to be from Dr. Nash with the timestamp indicating it had arrived within the past three minutes.

“Theo,” Sylvie whispered to get Theo's attention. She pointed toward the tablet once he was facing her. He glanced at the screen before nodding his consent for her to open the email.

Sylvie sat on the edge of the couch before setting her purse on the floor. She then draped her coat over her lap to cushion the tablet. With a glance toward the kitchen to make sure that Denise wasn’t about to walk out the door, Sylvie opened the message. She briefly read through its contents before clicking on the attachment.

A list of employees, from nurses to phlebotomists, appeared in alphabetical order. Sylvie’s gaze immediately went to the letter M, but there was no staff member under that section with a first name beginning with the letter A.

Starting back at the top, Sylvie perused the column of names.

“Theo.” Sylvie stared at one name in particular. The initials AM had never been a name, but an acronym. “Tell—”

“Too late.” Theo crossed the distance between them, reaching for his jacket. Sylvie hadn’t realized he had ended the call. “I guess Stewart Leone has tried to reach Claudia all day. She isn’t answering, and Miles is too pissed off at her to care. Brook is having Kitsis send a patrol unit to perform a wellness check. I told her we could drive over to Miles Therapeutics in the meantime. There is a chance Claudia is there. Anyway, I read through Nash’s history. I didn’t find anything that—”

“You need to call Brook,” Sylvie directed as she swiftly stood and all but shoved his tablet toward him. She tapped the screen to garner his attention. It didn’t take her but a moment to slip her arms into the sleeves of her coat. As she adjusted her scarf, she waited for the name to register. “Call Brook and tell her we know who killed Mara Miles.”