Page 18 of The Paternity Puzzle
Perla retrieved a bottle of water from deeper inside the ambulance and uncapped it for her. Julia thanked her and took several drinks before attempting to speak again.
“I thought they only sent detectives to murder scenes,” Julia said.
“We respond to many calls, including unattended deaths,” Royce explained. “I’m here as a personal favor to Commissioner Rigby.” Delicately winged brows arched upward. Royce wasn’t sure if she knew Rigby personally or if she was confused about why a highly ranked police official would get involved. He could find that out later. She was shivering from head to toe in her wet dress.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Royce asked gently.
Julia nodded. “I’m here visiting my family for the holiday weekend. We were all supposed to attend a party at our friends’ house, but Father never showed.” Her lips trembled, and she pressed her fingers against her mouth to stop them. After a few seconds, she lowered her hand and continued speaking. “I called his cell phone and the house line, but he didn’t answer. Our house staff was already gone for the weekend, so there was no one to check on him. I drove back here and found him…found him in the…” She shook her head as sobs racked her body. “I can’t say it. Then it’s real.”
“She’s had quite a shock,” Lydia said gently. “Do you mind if she changes into something warm and dry?”
“Of course not,” Royce replied. “I need to start my preliminary investigation at the pool, so take your time. I’d like to interview you afterward if you’re up to it.”
Julia nodded jerkily. “Of course. I’ll help however I can.”
“Where would you feel most comfortable talking to us?”
Julia told them she preferred to meet in her mother’s salon and gave them directions to find the room when they were ready.
“Thank you,” Royce said. “Can we access the pool by walking around the house, or should we go through it?”
“There is an access gate in the fence, but I don’t know the electric code. The house is unlocked, so you can go straight through to the back.”
“We’ll talk soon.” Royce gestured for Diego to precede him. He’d wanted to talk to Lydia about her observations when she first arrived, but it would have to wait until they could speak privately.
They stopped on the porch and slipped on their booties. A massive set of wood double doors stood open, and they stepped over the threshold. The interior of the Matisse home was as stately as the exterior, with luxurious attention given to every detail. White marble flooring stretched endlessly ahead of them, and intricately carved pillars towered two stories high in the grand foyer. A mural painted on the cathedral ceiling featured curly-haired cherubs peeking over the edge of fluffy white clouds dotting a blue sky. Royce stopped suddenly and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if there was a deeper meaning behind the winged babies depicted in the painting. The cherubs’ expressions ranged from innocent to impish. They each wore a different wreath of flowers on their heads, and the positioning of the crowns matched their expressions. The innocent-looking cherubs wore a straight wreath, where the flower crowns on the mischievous ones sat askew. The details were so lifelike that it gave the appearance that the little darlings were watching them.Royce halfway expected their eyes to follow them once they started moving again.
“This reminds me of the show at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas but without the giant talking statues,” Diego said. “I’m running the hell out of here if the clouds move and the cherubs giggle.”
Royce slapped Diego’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” He darted a glance upward and was relieved to note the cherubs were not tracking their movements.
Royce assessed the rooms as they moved toward the rear of the residence, but he didn’t find obvious signs of distress or disturbance, only the occasional puddle of water Julia had tracked inside. The house seemed too sterile to be inhabited. Everything was pristine and elegantly displayed, resembling a model home instead of a gathering place for family. Not a discarded pair of shoes kicked off after someone entered a room or a forgotten empty glass left on a table. Sawyer was the tidiest person Royce had ever met, but he was a slob compared to these people. Every clutter-free surface gleamed, stirring within Royce an irrational need to make a mess. Seriously, no coffeepot or canisters? No keys or mail haphazardly tossed on the island as someone passed through? Who were these people?
The rear of the house featured a wall of windows that overlooked the pool and a meticulously landscaped backyard beyond it. Royce halted mid-step to take in the stunning flora and fauna stretching for probably an acre. Lush blooms and neatly trimmed shrubs had been arranged by color and height in the most dazzling display Royce had ever seen. A paver walking path divided the sections and led to a large water fountain in the center, where a six-foot curvaceous goddess rose from the water.She held a bouquet in her hands, and water spilled from a large, overturned vase at her feet.
“There’s your talking statue,” Royce said.
“Nah, we’ve gone from Caesar’s Palace to the set ofBridgerton,” Diego said.
Movement on the far right of the patio caught Royce’s attention. Dr. Fawkes, the medical examiner, used a pool skimmer to guide Dr. Matisse’s body closer to the edge of the pool, where her assistants waited with outstretched hands to grip him. The deceased was tall and muscular and would not be easy to get out of the water. Officers Howard East and Erica Black were on the scene too, though neither of them seemed eager to help. Royce nudged Diego with his elbow and tilted his head to the struggling medical examiner’s team. He slipped on his first glove and said, “Shall we?”
Diego sighed and pulled his gloves on too. “If we must.” They continued through the house and stepped onto the patio. The patrol officers turned at their approach and exchanged a surprised glance amongst themselves when they saw who’d responded.
East, a transplant from Boston with the build and countenance of a bulldog, spoke first. “Sending out the big guns, huh?” He flexed his arm and pointed at his biceps straining his uniform.
Black, a petite Asian woman, rolled her eyes at her partner’s antics. “At first glance, this death looks like an open-shut case.” She gestured at a patio table where two crime scene techs were looking at an empty crystal decanter and a pill bottle. “Benzodiazepines and booze.”
Royce and Diego walked over to the table and waited for the techs to photograph and document the scene before examining the evidence. The prescription was for Alyssa Matisse and had been filled two days prior. The instructions said for her to taketwo to three pills per day as needed for anxiety, and the bottle was still pretty full. “Dr. Fawkes will do her best to determine how many of these he ingested,” Royce said to Diego. He gestured to the empty crystal decanter and matching glass. “And how much of this he consumed.” Royce removed the stopper from the decanter and lifted it to his nose. “Scotch. And it smells very expensive.” He set it down and gestured to the pool where Fawkes and her team were preparing to remove Dr. Matisse from the water.
“Let us give you a hand,” Royce called out.
Dr. Fawkes looked over her shoulder and sighed with relief. “Thank you. I didn’t want to ask my team to get into the pool with potential contaminants in the water.”
Royce concentrated on getting the man out of the pool without causing postmortem injuries that would require lengthy reports. He looked over his shoulder at East and Black. “Hey, can you guys move the body bag closer and hold it still so it won’t shift?” The officers exchanged a weary look but moved into position and did what he asked. Five of them carefully removed the dead man from the pool and set him on top of the black body bag.
Fawkes fixed Royce with a shrewd gaze. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I could say the same for you, Doc. I’d think you’d have enough clout to take the holiday weekend off.”