Shadows of the Past

Jessica leaned against her car, watching the coroner’s van pull away from the apartment building. The early morning sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, but the heat did nothing to thaw the ice in her veins.

The husband and his mistress—dead, locked inside from the inside out. No sign of forced entry, no obvious cause of death. It didn’t add up.

The police chief—his name was Sam Holden, she’d learned—stepped up beside her. He smelled like stale coffee and aftershave.

“You ever seen anything like this?” he asked, lighting a cigarette.

Jessica exhaled sharply. “I’ve seen a lot of things I can’t explain.”

Holden took a drag, nodding. “Yeah, you seem like the type.” He gave her a side glance. “Word is, you’re good at finding things other people miss.”

Jessica smirked. “That depends on who you ask.”

Holden exhaled smoke, watching it curl into the air. “I’ve been doing this job for over twenty years. And I know when something stinks.”

Jessica looked back at the building. “What do you know so far?”

Holden frowned. “The door was locked from the inside. No prints except theirs. No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Just two dead bodies.”

Jessica crossed her arms. “Tox screen?”

“Nothing obvious. Still waiting for the full report, but initial scans came back clean. No drugs, no poison. Nothing that makes sense.”

She stared at the window of the apartment, the curtains drawn tight. “Maybe we’re asking the wrong questions.”

Holden studied her. “And what would the right ones be?”

Jessica turned to face him fully. “Who wanted them dead? And how did they do it without ever being in the room?”

Holden nodded slowly. “That’s what I was hoping you’d help me figure out.”

---

Leanna and Olivia were waiting when Jessica returned to the office. Leanna had her laptop open. Olivia was nursing a cup of coffee that smelled more like jet fuel than anything drinkable.

“What do we know?” Jessica asked, shrugging out of her jacket.

Leanna barely glanced up. “Aside from the obvious? Nothing. I ran background checks on both victims. Standard stuff. The guy, Peter Esparza, had a few skeletons in his closet—financial fraud allegations, some questionable offshore accounts—but nothing concrete.”

Olivia chimed in. “The mistress, Camille Reyes, was a ghost. Almost nothing on her before she showed up two years ago.”

Jessica frowned. “That’s weird.”

Leanna nodded. “Yeah. And it gets weirder.” She turned her laptop screen to face Jessica. “Camille’s last known residence before moving here? A facility in Buenos Aires.”

Jessica’s stomach twisted. “Vanguard?”

Leanna hesitated before answering. “Not officially. But it fits the pattern.”

Jessica ran a hand through her hair. “So we’re not just dealing with an affair gone wrong.”

Olivia sighed. “We never are.”

Jessica sat down, the weight of the case settling on her shoulders. The past had come knocking again, and this time, it wasn’t leaving without answers. Maybe this time, she’d follow it all the way to the end.