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Chapter Four

Brooklyn Sloane January 2025 Monday — 6:01 pm

The last remnants of daylight had long since faded as Brook and Theo pulled up behind a police cruiser parked outside the Miles' residence in Bethesda, Maryland. The imposing estate was an elegant fortress, enclosed with an ornate wrought iron fence. The gated entrance had been left open for their arrival.

An interesting detail to note was the comprehensive security system that almost certainly covered every aspect of the property. Given that the shadows of the January evening had failed to descend over the acreage due to the exterior lighting schematics, one could assume the environment was the same last night.

“Miles was found kneeling beside his wife while holding a firearm, Brook. It doesn’t look good.” Theo shifted the gear into park, but he left the engine to his black Jeep Wrangler idling, much to Brook’s comfort. Both vents were pointed in her direction, and the heat level of the leather seat was set to high. She had no desire to step out into the cold any time soon. “According to the detective in charge, it’s been confirmed that Miles had gun residue on his hands. Tack on the fact that Jordan kept saying it was his fault after the police arrived, and the arrest was technically a slam dunk.”

Brook had spent an hour this afternoon on a video conference with the warden of FCI Cumberland. She wasn’t the biggest fan of his demeanor or the way he catered to politics within the judicial system, but he feared her influence over the Bureau.

In actuality, she and the FBI hadn’t ended her consulting agreement on the best of terms. Her current arrangement with the Bureau through S&E Investigations was much more amicable. The end result had been as she and Bit had suspected—no one from Norona or his firm had been to FCI Cumberland since Jacob’s incarceration.

After the conference call, Arden had caught her up on the details discovered in Jordan’s investigation thus far. Nothing she heard helped his case.

“What we see on the surface doesn’t necessarily display what is underneath,” Brook countered, knowing full well that Theo agreed with her on that front. He must have spoken with Sylvie, and the two of them wanted her prepared for the worst. “I was being truthful this morning when I said that Jordan and I are merely acquaintances. He asked that we take his case, and doing so can be beneficial to both of us. Barry Ackles’ firm is one of the best in Maryland, whereas Mitch Norona’s firm falls behind them slightly in the state rankings. Ackles might have information that he will be more inclined to give if we play nice.”

“Speaking of Ackles, he wasn’t too happy that it was Sylvie who returned his call today.” Theo finally shut off the engine, much to her dismay. He didn’t reach for the door handle right away. “She was still able to set up a meeting with Miles and Ackles first thing tomorrow morning at his penthouse in D.C.”

“Sylvie has already confirmed that Jordan and his wife were at the shooting range yesterday morning. Such an activity would explain the gun residue on his hands, regardless that such a visit makes the crime itself appear premeditated.”

From Brook’s brief conversation with Arden, it had been confirmed that Jordan and Mara had enjoyed breakfast at their country club yesterday morning, followed by a couple of hours at the shooting range. They parted company right afterward, with Jordan needing to tend to some business matters. Mara ran some errands before returning home.

According to the preliminary report, Jordan didn’t arrive at the estate until after eight o’clock last night. The police entered the gates approximately eight minutes afterward, subsequently finding Jordan in the bedroom muttering how his wife’s death was all his fault.

“Ackles claims Miles was in shock after discovering Mara’s body and that he didn’t mean his words literally.” Theo opened his door. The comforting warmth instantly vacated the interior of the vehicle. Brook shot him an irritated glance only to find him flashing her a smile in return. “It was the only way I was going to get you out of my Jeep.”

Brook was already shivering by the time she stepped out onto the immaculately maintained driveway. There wasn’t a flake of snow or a speck of ice to be found even though a good four inches of snow blanketed the grounds. She had brought her winter boots just in case, storing them on the floor behind her seat. By the time she had made her way around the front of the Jeep, she came to a realization.

“Is this driveway heated?” Theo asked before she could utter a word. “Damn. This driveway is at least a quarter of a mile long.”

“If you were listed on the Forbes billionaire list, wouldn’t you have a heated driveway, too?” Brook asked wryly as they fell into step alongside each other.

“If I was on the Forbes billionaire list, I wouldn’t be living in D.C. You would find me living somewhere that didn’t need heated pavers,” Theo muttered as they passed the unmarked cruiser parked in front of a patrol car. Neither vehicle had its lights activated in the aftermath of the murder. Considering that forensics had finished processing the scene earlier this afternoon, the only reason there was someone on site was due to their scheduled visit. “We’re meeting Detective Duane Kitsis. My guy in the department says Kitsis is solid, experienced, and doesn’t harbor any resentment toward outside agencies.”

The cold air stung Brook’s cheeks as they approached the elegant double doors framed by two massive stone columns. There was no porch, but one wasn’t needed with this type of grandeur. The soft golden glow of overhead lights illuminated every cream and tan brick.

The heavy doors swung open to reveal an officer standing just inside. He asked for their identifications, his demeanor professional and detached. The nametag pinned to his upper left pocket read Officer Nida. Brook waited until they were inside the foyer to remove her gloves. She then retrieved her credentials from her purse and held it up for verification. Theo did the same before unbuttoning the top portion of his coat.

While Theo exchanged pleasantries with the officer, Brook took the opportunity to scan what could be seen on the main level. The spacious foyer boasted high ceilings and gleaming marble floors, while opulent chandeliers cast a warm, golden hue upon the tasteful furnishings. To the left, a sweeping staircase led to the second floor, its thick railings adorned with intricate carvings. To her right, a formal seating area with plush sofas and armchairs arranged in such a way that each individual had a view of the massive hearth.

Despite the outward appearance of wealth and comfort throughout the home, a palpable sense of loneliness hung in the air.

“You're all set,” Officer Nida announced right before muffled footsteps could be heard descending the staircase. “Is there anything else you need, Detective?”

“No, Nida. I appreciate you working overtime today.”

A tall, middle-aged man with slightly curly brown hair stepped onto the marble tile. He approached them with an extended arm, shaking Theo’s hand first. Brook was still in the process of taking the blue shoe coverings and latex gloves from Officer Nida. The presence of the detective had moved the air around in the foyer, stirring up some strong scents of chemicals and cinnamon. The odd mixture wasn’t pleasant.

“Detective Duane Kitsis.” The man waited patiently, using the time to study her. When Brook finally offered her hand, the detective narrowed his gaze with interest. “I have to admit, I've been following your brother’s case in the news for a while now.”

“You and everyone else in America.” Brook presented Kitsis with a tight smile. She really wasn’t keen on discussing Jacob’s case with a complete stranger. “Thank you for allowing us access to the crime scene. You have our word we won’t disturb anything.”

“Forensics finished up late this afternoon.” Kitsis rubbed the back of his neck in what she could only label as unease. “Listen, my supervisor isn’t too pleased with my decision to cooperate with you, but the arrest is solid. Your client also confessed to the murder. Besides, everything we hand over to the prosecutor will eventually reach Miles’ defense team.”

“The security system is state-of-the-art,” Theo said without addressing Kitsis’ statements. Theo gestured toward a small white panel by the door. “Hardware and software that technologically advanced should be able to prove whether someone else was on the property at the time of the murder.”

“One would believe that to be the case, but the system was completely shut down one hour before the 911 call.”

Brook weighed her words carefully before speaking, not wanting to get ahead of herself. Keeping this meeting civil was of utmost importance. It was why she chose not to comment at all on the latest intel.

“Is it alright if I walk around the residence?”

“Of course,” Detective Kitsis replied, stepping forward to close the front door after Officer Nida had taken his leave.

Brook donned the protective gear while Theo engaged the detective in conversation. The diversion allowed her to focus on her task of examining the Miles’ living space. She took her time studying the interior décor. The main level was spacious, not allowing for the usual intimacy associated with a home.

Had Mara chosen the furnishings, or had the couple hired an interior designer?

Jordan and Mara didn’t have children, though Brook wasn’t certain such a decision was in their hands. The tabloids had a lot to say on the subject, but Brook would wait until her meeting with Jordan to collect the facts about his marriage.

The family photos adorning the walls weren’t the typical framed photographs. These pictures were staged, taken either in a studio or at an event with a large attendance. There wasn’t one captured image without either of them smiling, giving the impression of a happy couple. Beneath the surface, Brook detected subtle signs of discord between the husband and wife.

By the time Brook reached the kitchen, there was a chill of isolation that had nothing to do with the cold weather outside. The kitchen was modern and meticulously tidy, almost excessively so, with its white marble countertops reflecting the bright overhead lighting. The silver appliances didn’t have a single smudge on their surfaces. The six-burner gas stove positioned under a sleek stainless-steel exhaust hood appeared as if it hadn’t been used for quite some time.

There was a single white porcelain mug turned upside down in the sink.

“…stopped talking the second the cuffs were placed around his wrists.”

“What was your impression of Jordan Miles’ state of mind when…”

Theo and Detective Kitsis must have moved closer to the kitchen entryway, given the sound of their voices, but Brook had already walked to the other side of the house. A glass door led to the backyard, where a pool lay covered for the winter season, its surface obscured by a thick sheet of snow. Nearby, a hot tub bubbled invitingly beneath a white gazebo. Brook mentally made a note to have someone return during daylight hours for a more thorough inspection of the property.

After spending time scanning the setup of Jordan’s private office, Brook began to make her way up the grand staircase. She was mindful not to touch the railing, even with latex gloves. She could still hear Theo and the detective conversing below, though the topic had changed to her past experience as a profiler.

Brook paused at the top of the stairs facing elegant French doors that no doubt led into the master bedroom. Instead of entering the heart of the crime scene, she focused instead on the other five bedrooms lining both corridors that wrapped around the large foyer. As she moved through each room, she noted the subtle differences in décor, though not by much.

The fourth room captivated Brook’s interest the most.

A small bookcase in the corner was filled with volumes of various genres, from literature to biographies. A single armchair was positioned near a window, its well-worn cushion hinting at countless hours spent lost in thought or absorbed in a good book. This particular room seemed to hold more personal significance than the others, and Brook found herself pausing to consider its implications.

It was then that she found the closet door slightly ajar.

She reached out and slowly pulled on the handle. The small walk-in closet was home to several business suits, ties, dress shoes, and an assortment of casual clothes. Jordan had been using this bedroom…not sharing the main bedroom with his wife.

Were Jordan and Mara having marital problems?

With a sense of foreboding, Brook retraced her steps down the hallway and finally approached the French doors that guarded the main suite. The sight that greeted her was both chilling and tragic.

The bedroom itself was spacious and luxurious, with tasteful furnishings and an undeniable air of sophistication. Unlike the rest of the residence, this room exuded intimacy and warmth. A king-sized bed adorned with silk sheets was arranged against one wall, seemingly untouched by the carnage that had unfolded nearby. In contrast, the seating area—a collection of plush chairs and a small coffee table—bore the brunt of the crime’s brutality. The blood-soaked carpet was a horrific reminder of the violence that had taken place yesterday.

Brook remained standing near the entrance of the bedroom while examining the not-so-little nuances of the décor, such as the fact that there wasn’t a single photograph of Jordan and Mara to be found on the wall, nightstand, or shelves. The bed hadn’t been turned down, suggesting Mara hadn’t been ready to call it a night before she was shot to death.

Considering the core location of the crime scene, she had been…working?

Brook took a step closer to the plush blue chairs. A charging cord for a laptop was tucked in between them and plugged into an outlet. The police must have taken the computer into evidence. Had Mara been checking her email or maybe in the midst of planning an event for one of the various charity boards she had served on this year?

As of this moment, Brook wasn’t privy to what Mara had been wearing at the time of her death. Had she been dressed in the same clothes from earlier in the day? Or had Mara changed into casual and comfortable clothes upon arriving home? Maybe even some nightwear?

After methodically finishing the walk-through, Brook made her way downstairs. There had been antidepressants and sleeping pills prescribed to Mara by a local physician in the medicine cabinet. The large walk-in closet contained both Jordan and Mara’s belongings, but it was unmistakable some of his clothes had been moved to the spare bedroom. The power couple depicted in the gossip columns was not the same husband and wife living under this roof.

Brook needed the photographs taken by the crime scene technicians before she could begin creating a profile. Such snapshots would provide invaluable insight into the precise sequence of events. Everything she had observed thus far had her confident in a preliminary draft.

“Detective Kitsis, you mentioned a 911 call.” Brook joined the two men near the front entrance, fully prepared to discuss the importance of such a factor. She removed her blue shoe coverings, as well as her latex gloves. “Was that call placed by Jordan Miles?”

“No.” From the detective’s stance, Brook could sense that his anticipated response wasn’t in Jordan’s favor. “Mara Miles dialed 911 right before she was killed. She clearly stated to the operator that she was afraid her husband was going to kill her.”