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“Sounds like you had a good family,” said Moose, holding the door open as they stepped off.

“The best,” she smiled.

As they walked into the restaurant, Brix, Sor, Fitch, and Georgie turned to stare at them. Standing beside them were three MPs and a local sheriff’s deputy.

“Not again,” muttered Jill.

“Jill, everything is fine,” said Georgie. “The MPs and Deputy Reese came to inform us that they found the body of Alana Weathers inside her home.”

“What?” frowned Jill. “We were there this morning, and she was fine.”

“A neighbor called and said there was a disturbance next door. They saw someone flee from the scene. A Marco Rubiello, allegedly her masseur.”

“He was there when we were there,” said Dan.

“The neighbor said he looked beaten and bleeding. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which seems odd considering how bitterly cold it is outside.”

“Can you give me an idea of what time you left the home?” asked the deputy.

“Maybe 12:15 or 12:30,” said CJ. “When we left, we commented that we would grab some lunch and head back here.”

“That coincides with what the neighbor saw. She said there were two men and a woman who visited her, left around noon, and then no one for a few hours. She told us that the other man, the one that left appearing beaten, had arrived before the two men and woman and didn’t leave until the disturbance later in the day.”

“This neighbor sure has a lot of time on her hands,” frowned Jill.

“She’s an elderly woman, disabled. She pretty much sits at her window and watches the neighborhood,” shrugged the deputy.

“How was she killed?” asked Jill. The deputy stared at her, confused at first. “Alana. How was she killed?”

“Bullet to the temple.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After taking statements from the team, the MPs and deputy left them to their dinner. They sat quietly for a while, no one saying anything.

“What can I get you folks to drink?” asked the waitress.

“I could use a glass of wine,” said Georgie. “Chardonnay.”

“Just sparkling water for me,” smiled Jill. The others ordered soda or water, no one having any alcohol other than Georgie. When the waitress returned, they all ordered their entrees and then stared at one another again.

“Who’s going to say it?” asked Georgie. They all stared at her. “She’s shot in the temple just like her Adam. That seems a bit of a coincidence, doesn’t it?”

“Yep,” muttered Moose. “Too much of a coincidence. I think we need to speak to the others on his team. This is two team members and a spouse, all dead, two from a bullet to the temple. We’re missing something here.”

“Tomorrow, we need to find those other team members and speak to them,” said Georgie, looking at Brix. He nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do to secure them all in one place.”

While he sent a few text messages and made a few calls, they waited for their food and talked casually about other things happening back home.

“I got a photo and text from Grandma and Grandpa,” smiled Dan. He showed them a photo of Antoine and Ella standing in front of the Trevi Fountain in Rome. They were embracing, smiling at one another with love.

“That’s such a great photo,” laughed Georgie. “I got one of Mom and Dad too. They look like they’re all having a wonderful time.”

“It’s definitely a trip that they deserved,” said CJ. “I can’t remember the last time any of them truly took a vacation or break from work.”

“I can understand,” said Jill. “It’s hard to just push everything aside and shut it off. We’re all passionate about the work we do, and it starts to overtake your life.”

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