Page 20 of Dirty Liars

“When we were at the crime scene, I agreed with you that Chloe had to be the target, considering how many times she was shot,” I said. “I recovered seven bullets from the body. One in the frontal lobe, one in the throat, three center mass, and two in the pubic bone.”

Jack looked at the photographs I’d taken of the entry wounds, his expression hardening as he studied the pattern. “If the head shot was the killing blow, and I think it was based on what I’m looking at here, then the killer positioned her on the ground and shot her in a deliberate pattern. I could fit a playing card over the three bullet holes in her chest. That’s a shooter with a steady hand. Same thing with the two shots to the pubic bone. They’re less than an inch apart and side by side. We’re looking for someone who’s very comfortable with a weapon. This is surgery.”

“A professional hit?” Doug asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he leaned over to glimpse the photos. His fascination with the macabre was both concerning and typical for his age.

“Maybe,” Jack said, carefully laying the photos back in the folder. “But definitely someone who knows their way around a weapon. That narrows down your killer once we’ve got a suspect list. It could be someone with military training.”

“Or secret service?” I suggested, arching a brow. “Aren’t diplomats protected by secret service?”

“Sometimes,” Jack replied, nodding. “Depends on the ambassador and the circumstances. But that’s something worth checking out when we get Theo’s full background from the State Department.”

“You still haven’t gotten it?” I asked, surprised. Usually, Jack’s connections opened doors that would remain firmly closed to others.

“If there’s anything I’ve learned about working with the government,” Jack said with a wry smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “it’s that they don’t do anything fast, and they probably don’t want to give me the information anyway. They might even try to take over the investigation.”

“Can they do that?” Doug asked, looking up, a hint of worry in his eyes. Having been on the wrong side of government interest, he knew better than most how those agencies operated.

“No,” Jack said firmly. “They can put pressure and make things difficult. But that’s one of the things TV gets wrong. Jurisdiction belongs to us unless we ask for help or hand it over. And I’m not a fan of going that route.” He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. “We were able to get a judge to sign off on a warrant to search Theo’s home, and I sent Martinez with a couple of the guys from CSI to do a search, but nothing turned up. There’s a carriage house in the back with a tenant, but the warrant didn’t cover the carriage house since it’s a separate residence.”

“What were you looking for at the dead guy’s house?” Doug asked, his natural curiosity piqued.

“Anything that might lead to a killer,” Jack explained, wiping a smudge of mustard from the corner of his mouth. “Or point the finger directly at Theo. Martinez said he found a couple of weapons, but they were tucked away in the closet and looked like they hadn’t been fired recently. Neither of the guns was a .22.”

Jack’s blue eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled the details. “Martinez said it looked like a house that had been staged, like you see when someone is trying to sell their home. Not a lot of personal stuff or photographs lying around, and the few photographs they did find were only of Chloe and Theo together. No family pictures.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognized as a sign of his mounting frustration. “Martinez said it was definitely Theo’s place. Chloe’s presence in the house was minimal. She had a closet that was filled with mostly new clothes, shoes, and handbags, and a few things in her nightstand drawer and in the bathroom.”

Jack rubbed at the tension that had gathered at the back of his neck and said, “Was that the surprise?”

“Oh, I’m not there yet,” I said, savoring the moment. I pulled out another photograph from the folder and slid it across to him. “The victim had a tattoo on the bottom of her foot. I almost didn’t see it during the initial examination. I enhanced the photograph so you can see it better.” I handed him the close-up. “Anything about that look familiar?”

Jack studied the image, his expression shifting from curiosity to shock as recognition dawned. “I’ll be damned,” he said softly. “That’s not a coincidence.”

“What’s not a coincidence?” Doug asked, craning his neck to see. “You guys are driving me crazy with your vagueness.”

“It’s not vague to me,” Jack said, tapping the file. “I’m looking at it right now.” He laid two photographs side by side in front of Doug: one of the tattoo on the bottom of Chloe’s foot and one of the bullet holes in her body.

“Oh,” Doug said, his eyes widening as he made the connection. “What are the chances of that happening?”

“Of the tattoo on her foot being the exact pattern as the bullet holes in her body?” Jack asked rhetorically. “Pretty slim.”

“Theo has a matching tattoo on the bottom of the same foot,” I added, watching Jack’s reaction carefully.

Jack’s eyebrow arched at that, his mind visibly working through the implications. “Very interesting. Maybe it’s gang related.” He pushed the photograph of the tattoo across to Doug. “Let’s get that into the SMT database and see if we get any matches.”

The SMT database—scars, marks, and tattoos—was used by all law enforcement agencies nationwide to track identifiers that might connect victims or perpetrators to organized groups.

“I’m glad it was an eventful autopsy,” Jack said, his tone lighter than his eyes suggested.

“I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “Chloe Vasilios had recently had sex.”

“Sexual assault?” Jack asked.

“There are no signs of sexual assault,” I said.

The kitchen fell silent for a moment, save for Oscar’s soft panting as he dozed at Jack’s feet.

“That’s not out of the realm of possibility,” Jack said reasonably. “A newly married couple. They could’ve even had sex in the back of the car on the way to the resort.”

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