Page 30 of Haunted By Sin

Sylvie Deering

May 2024

Saturday — 11:54 am

Sylvie adjusted her sunglasses as she kept her focus on Sheila Wallace’s residence. Wallace had been an organ donor, and her heart had been given to Mary Jane Reynolds. With the SUV’s engine shut off, the sun’s rays intensified the warmth radiating off the dark dashboard. Seeing as only one vehicle was parked in the driveway, Sylvie wasn’t in a rush to approach the front door.

“So Bouras was just parked outside the lake house?" Sylvie asked as she began to observe the other homes in the neighborhood. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to knock on some doors to ask questions about Sheila Wallace. “Sitting in his car, and waiting for one of you to walk outside? What was his reasoning?”

“Bouras claimed to be checking in on the case, hoping to ease Mary Jane’s concerns. He says that she isn’t sleeping at night and is constantly on edge." Bit’s voice was a bit muffled by the wind. He had mentioned that he was walking from the lake house to the pier for lunch. “Even though Bouras has alibis, Boss isn’t too keen on his excuse as to why he sought out our physical location.”

“Which was…what?” Sylvie prodded as movement in her rearview mirror caught her attention. An older model car was slowly pulling to a stop behind her. “I need to go, Bit.”

“Bouras claimed that he couldn’t find Boss’ business card that she left with Mary Jane at the house,” Bit summed up quickly while Sylvie unfastened her seatbelt. She quickly removed her sunglasses. “Anyway, the reason that I was calling was to tell you that no one deleted Sheila Wallace’s social media accounts. She had no social media presence to begin with…none.”

“Thanks, Bit.” Sylvie reached into one of the cup holders where she had stored her eyeglasses. She wiped away a smudge on the black rims before settling them on the bridge of her nose. “I’ll let you know how the interviews go this afternoon. Bye.”

Sylvie lowered her phone as she checked her side mirror. A man stepped out of the car, thus removing the glare from the front windshield. She recognized him from his picture—Tyler Doss. He was thirty years old, and he had been placed with Sheila Wallace at the age of sixteen years old. Sylvie and Bit had spent hours collecting names and photographs of every child placed in Sheila Wallace’s home who would fit the age parameters of their unsub.

After collecting her purse and palming the keys, Sylvie reached for the door handle. The temperature was a tad cooler outside the SUV, and there was the faint scent of fresh-cut grass lingering in the air. She shut the door with a slight shove before offering her hand.

“Tyler Doss? I’m Sylvie Deering,” she introduced before taking a step back. She had worn a light pink cardigan over a pair of white pants. She had paired with it a thick mauve belt to have a comfortable place to holster her weapon. The man’s gaze immediately dropped to her firearm. “I appreciate you and the others meeting me here.”

Tyler Doss was broad-shouldered, sported a beard, and wore an inexpensive suit that most car salesmen dressed in during the workday. His grip had been firm, but it was obvious from his frown that he would rather be anywhere else but Sheila Wallace’s residence.

“You didn’t say what this was about.” Tyler fell into step beside Sylvie as she began to walk up the driveway. “Why is the FBI interested in Sheila Wallace? She died last year.”

“There has been some information that has come to light over the past few days,” Sylvie said, purposefully keeping her response vague. “I’m surprised that the house hasn’t been listed for sale yet.”

“Sheila didn’t have any kids of her own, so she left it to Andrea.” Tyler stepped forward quickly so that he could reach for the screen door. “Here. Let me get that.”

Andrea Simpson was the woman who had inherited Sheila Wallace’s home. While Andrea hadn’t been the donor’s biological daughter, their relationship must have been close enough to warrant a will. Such information could come in handy over the next few hours.

Sylvie nodded her appreciation to Tyler before stepping over the threshold. The house didn’t have a porch, and it didn’t appear as if Andrea had taken an interest in gardening. The flowerbeds contained dead leaves, and the only reason the soil appeared somewhat healthy was courtesy of the recent rains.

Sylvie caught the faint, stale odor of old cigarette smoke as she entered the living room. The smell lingered in the air, but any quick movement caused the scent to vanish. The musky aroma simply wasn’t overpowering enough to assume that Andrea was the smoker.

Stepping into the living room was like entering the past—one wall consisted of wooden panels from the 70s, while the other three had faded wallpaper that peeled at the edges. The darkness of the room cast shadows everywhere, making it all too easy to notice the dust floating in the sunlight that streamed through the windows.

“Ty? Is that you?” A woman materialized from what Sylvie assumed was the kitchen. “Oh, you must be the FBI agent.”

“Consultant,” Sylvie corrected as she reached out to shake the woman’s hand. “My name is Sylvie Deering, and I work with S&E Investigations out of Washington, D.C.”

“Hey, Andrea.” Tyler stepped around Sylvie so that he could kiss Andrea on the cheek. Sylvie didn’t pick up anything more intimate than a brotherly and sisterly vibe. “It’s been a while. Sorry about that. Business has been booming since the warm weather moved in.”

Andrea patted Tyler’s hand before gesturing that Sylvie should take a seat. The living room furniture hadn’t been updated in decades. The blue and brown fabric of the couch and matching chairs were frayed in the front from overuse, and there were indentations in the cushions.

“Can I get you anything to drink? A water? Soda?” Andrea offered as she didn’t follow behind Tyler and Sylvie right away. “I might have some apple juice, too.”

“No, thank you,” Sylvie replied as she claimed the chair. She set her purse on the floor. “I just have a few questions, but should we wait for Mitch Swilling?”

“Mitch?” Tyler’s body language suggested disbelief upon hearing the man’s name. “Andrea, you didn’t tell me that Mitch was back in town.”

“Then maybe you should come around more often.” Andrea’ sharp reply startled Sylvie. The woman had initially come across as quite timid. “Sorry. I’m a little stressed since I was let go from the hotel. Mitch came back into town around six months ago. He’s been dropping in every now and then, so when the FBI called about Sheila, I told Mitch that he should be here.”

Tyler cleared his throat when he realized that Sylvie was quietly waiting until they were done speaking to ask her questions. She wouldn’t have minded if they had continued their conversation.

“I haven’t seen Mitch in years,” Tyler explained as he rested his elbows on his knees. He didn’t bother leaning back against the cushion, and his body language suggested that he wasn’t comfortable in the house. “As you already know, Sheila was our foster mother. There were a lot of foster kids in and out of this place.”

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