Page 14 of Operation: Sharp Angel

“Steady hand, not nervous, that’s for sure,” Jackson surmised. “I don’t recall the police report stating how many rounds were left in the magazine.”

“We’ll have to look into that. It didn’t say,” Tessman answered. “If there weren’t at least five rounds missing from the magazine, I’m sure that would have been noted. I’d hope so at least.”

Tessman walked into the family room area adjacent to the kitchen and eating area. He looked around. Nothing seemed out of place or out of the ordinary. Becca would be the one to determine that, though. While he glanced over family pictures ofhappy times for the family that were hung on the walls, Jackson wandered into the dining room.

Tessman studied the kids’ toys against the wall and was reminded that was what Wilson’s living room now looked like; a child’s play area set up in the main TV room. There were no papers or mail lying around, no clutter on the tables beyond coasters and a couple of candles.

He stepped back to the kitchen. On the edge of the counter, he found a stack of mail. It was all open and appeared to have been gone through. He wondered if the police had done that or the adults who lived here. He flipped through the stack. It was all normal, routine stuff, utility bills, junk mail flyers, a doctor’s bill from Schaumburg Pediatric with a co-pay of twenty-five dollars due from a visit for Riley DeSoto the month before.

“Let’s find Nick’s office and take a look,” Jackson said, reentering the room. “Nothing in the dining room or living room look disturbed.”

“Family room and kitchen eating areas as well are undisturbed.”

“One thing is bothering me,” Jackson said. “This whole house is too clean and uncluttered. Did people with two kids really live here?” He pointed to the family room area. “Angel is amazing, but our house is never that picked up. It’s impossible with two kids to have every toy put in its place. I even walked into the powder room. There wasn’t a water splash mark anywhere on the counter or mirror.”

“Maybe it had just been cleaned,” Tessman said. “We’ll have to ask Becca if they had a weekly cleaner come in.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Jackson said. “Let’s check the basement next. The down staircase is off the entry.”

Jackson led the way. Tucked around the corner near the laundry room was a staircase leading down. They turned the wall switch on, illuminating lights on the stairs, and they could seebeyond where the last stair ended on the basement floor. The basement was unfinished. On one half of the large open space, shelves lined the wall and boxes and totes lined the shelves. On the other side, there were ride-on toys and other play equipment that looked like they were meant for outside but had been brought inside to play with during the winter. Past them was a kitchen table and chairs with paint brushes and large sheets of paper with a shelf full of craft supplies beyond it.

The two men checked the two escape windows for any hint that either had been forced open. Neither found anything.

They returned to the main level and then climbed the stairs to the second floor. Tessman didn’t even have a kid, and he was dreading seeing the two bedrooms the kids were killed in. The first room they came to at the top of the stairs was the parent’s bedroom. They took a look around it and the attached bathroom. Besides being very clean and uncluttered, they found nothing concerning.

Tessman rifled through the closet that held male clothing. He remembered that on the police report of items removed from the home, there was no mention of anything gun related. No gun box, no ammo, no cleaning supplies, no hearing protection. Even as he searched, he knew it was probably foolish. The police would have looked everywhere.

“What are you looking for?” Jackson asked.

“I know the police searched thoroughly and there was no mention, but I’m just looking for anything gun-related. Unless he bought the gun on the street, it would have come in a storage box.”

“The police searched everywhere, inside and out,” Jackson said. “I’m surprised they didn’t find a box of ammo anywhere. Where’d he load the weapon and where’s the rest of the ammo from the box?”

The room next to the parent’s bedroom was the office. There was a large safe in the closet with the door open. Detective Davis said they’d obtained the combination from Becca. All contents had been removed by the police. It was empty. There was a monitor on the desktop with the docking station, keyboard, and mouse in place, waiting for the laptop to tap into. It was gone, had been confiscated by the police.

Hanging above the desk was a large collage frame with many family pictures of what looked like a Disney vacation. Becca was in many of the pictures. Tessman couldn’t help but look at her beautiful, happy smile while she interacted with her sister and the kids. He became angry on her behalf that she’d been robbed of her family and would never enjoy more of those times.

A thorough search of the office revealed no clues to them. They moved on to the last two bedrooms, which they both dreaded. They didn’t spend much time in either room knowing the police had thoroughly searched them. They just viewed the beds with the bloodstains and blood-splatter on the walls and bedding, and then they did a quick look at the hall bathroom, which was also clean.

“There’s not even a glob of toothpaste in the sink,” Jackson said. “Those kids didn’t brush their teeth before bed, or the sink was cleaned after. Either that or Sammy is just a hell of a lot messier than any other kid. He can’t brush his teeth without leaving a trace of the toothpaste in the bowl of the sink.”

“Are you saying you think someone cleaned this place up after the murders?” Tessman asked.

“We’ll have to ask Becca if Nick was OCD. Maybe he was some kind of neat freak who wouldn’t want the police or anyone else in here with it less than immaculate,” Jackson said.

“So, he had the presence of mind to kill his two kids and then his wife, and then cleanup the entire place, except for the blood,before he shot himself in the foyer? I’m not buying it,” Tessman said.

“Let’s go back downstairs. I want to take a look at the backyard and at the edge of the forest preserve,” Jackson said.

At the top of the stairs, Tessman hit the light switch. The light over the stairs didn’t come on. “Burned out?” he questioned. “We’ll have to ask Becca if it was out the last time she was here.”

Once in the backyard, they both noted it was not as immaculate as the house. Of course, spring was only just upon them and most people had just begun the winter cleanup around their yards. There was a jungle gym climbing fort with swings that looked like it had been used recently.

At what they assumed to be the property line between the house and the forest preserve, there were several depressions in the ground that looked like footprints. Both men acknowledged the indentations could have been made by the police, as it was assumed they too would have checked this area out. Tessman wandered into the taller grass and shrubs at the boundary, which stretched for about ten feet before the tree line. He found nothing notable. Just within the tree line, there was trampled tall grass behind a thick tree trunk. There, he also found several cigarette butts. They looked fresh, well, smoked and left there within the last few weeks. They hadn’t been buried under snow. They collected the butts in a baggie. They would talk to Detective Davis about them.

Echo

Tessman hit a Starbucks drive-thru for coffee on his way to meet Jackson and the client at the crime scene. After being inside the day before and seeing the remnants of the death that took place, he didn’t blame the client for not wanting to enter yet. Tessman had seen a lot of death, and had helped facilitate it. In combat, it was one thing. In a family home while children slept in their beds, it was another thing altogether. One of the victims had been the same age as Wilson’s new daughter, Lilly. That thought had gnawed at him since he’d left the crime scene house the day before. His sleep hadn’t been restful.

---