Page 13 of So Lethal

“You can sit in the living room if you’d like,” Barbara said. “Do you two want anything to drink? Maybe some water for your dog?”

“Water for Turk would be nice, thank you,” Faith replied.

“Water will be fine for us too,” Michael added. “Thank you for taking the time to speak to us. I know you’re going through something terrible.”

She sniffled. “Yes. It’s…” Her lower lip trembled, but she took a deep breath and kept from crying. “Why did they call the FBI in? Was James in some sort of trouble?”

“They called us in because there was another murder,” Faith replied, taking a seat on the expansive sofa. It was unfairly comfortable.

Barbara blinked. “Another?”

“Yes,” Michael confirmed. “A woman named Monica Smith.”

Faith watched Barbara closely, but she showed no sign that the name was familiar to her. “I don’t know a Monica Smith. Was she one of James’s coworkers?”

“No. She was a graphic designer. She lived in San Jose.”

“Okay,” Barbara said. “How does this relate to James’s death?”

“Both were… the circumstances of their deaths were similar.”

“Oh.” Barbara took another shuddering breath. “It’s just horrible. Why would someone do that to James? I don’t know this Monica, but I assume she was a decent person as well.”

“All signs point to that,” Faith replied. “To answer your question, we’re not sure. That’s why we want to talk to you. We’re hoping you might be able to tell us something helpful.”

Barbara shook her head. “I wish I could, but I don’t know why on Earth anyone would want to hurt James. Everyone loved him. We hosted the Christmas party for his company every year, and they all adored him. He was so kind to everyone.”

She pressed her fingers to her eyes, and her lips trembled again. After a moment, she stood abruptly. “I forgot your water. I’ll be right back.”

She stalked away, and Faith got the impression she was trying not to let them see her cry. Turk whined softly and watched her go with an empathetic stare. As soon as she returned to her seat, Turk stepped over the bowl of water she’d brought him and laid his head on her lap. Barbara smiled slightly and stroked his fur. “We never had a dog. James was allergic. He would have put up with one for my sake, but I didn’t want to do that to him.”

“You seem to have loved him very much,” Michael said.

“I will always love him. He was my only one. I fell in love with him the day we met. He was fifteen, and I was fourteen. He had just moved here from Wisconsin. He had this wide, goofy smile and the kindest eyes I’d ever seen. My parents were wary at first on account of him being deaf, but after they got to know him, they accepted him as one of their own.”

“Why were they wary about his deafness?”

Barbara gave a soft little wave. “Some older people believed that deafness was a sign of mental handicap. Obviously, that isn’t the case, but my parents were raised in a very traditional manner. Needless to say, they didn’t believe that for very long.” She sighed wistfully. “I’ll never forget the day he told me he loved me. We spoke in sign language before then—I started learning as soon as I met him—but he practiced saying it in his own voice so he could tell me on the day of our senior dance.”

Her eyes took on a beatific look. "He had such a beautiful voice. Rich and strong and deep. I loved hearing him talk. He rarely did in front of others, but at home, I would listen to him speak for hours." She shook her head. "It's strange. I thought that over time, our love would soften. I knew it would remain strong, but I thought it would become more of a friendship than a romance. I was wrong, though. I was head over heels for him. Always."

She bowed her head, and this time, she didn’t try to hide her tears. Turk looked up at her and whined softly. Faith felt a lump form in her throat and had to look away. She knew already that Barbara wasn’t the killer. It was true that sociopaths could put on a convincing show of love, but Faith was trained to see past that falseness. It was clear that there was no falseness in Barbara’s devotion. She would never have killed James.

After a few minutes, Barbara’s tears subsided. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a mess ever since he died.”

“No need to apologize,” Michael said gently. “We’re so sorry for your loss.”

“Can you tell us what happened that night?” Faith asked. “I know it’s painful, but anything you can tell us would help a lot.”

Barbara chuckled bitterly. “I wish I could. I just don’t know. I didn’t find him until the morning after.”

“Just tell us what you know,” Faith said gently.

She sniffled, then said, “Um… We went to bed at eight-thirty like normal. We’ve always been early birds. We fell asleep, and then…” She took another deep breath. “I woke up at four. He wasn’t in bed, so I assumed he had gone outside to wait for me. When we woke up early, we’d make coffee and wait for the other in the backyard. It was our little ritual to watch the sunrise together and talk before we had to work. So I went to the backyard, and… and…”

She began to hyperventilate, and Faith quickly went to her side. Barbara stroked Turk’s hair and slowly calmed herself. She looked straight ahead at the wall, her eyes wide as she recalled the shock.

"You can't imagine how horrible it is to see the person you love like that. To see him hurt so badly, to know that he struggled but couldn't even scream because of what the murderer did to him. To know that I was so close, but I couldn't help him because I couldn't hear him."

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