India laughed.
“—and I know that there are many people around here who still think that my brother killed Cal and Beth Murphy.”
“You don’t?”
Juniper was stunned silent. “He’s my brother.”
“Ted Bundy was someone’s brother, too. That didn’t stop him.”
Juniper opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Look.” India set her wineglass down on a natural-edge coffee table and leaned forward with her elbows on her crisscrossed knees. “I don’t think Jonathan killed them either.”
“You don’t?”
“He doesn’t fit the profile, and his actions after the murders would either classify him as a sociopath—which neither of us believes is true—or point to the fact that he didn’t do it. That he couldn’t do it. I don’t think for a second that he would kill Calvin and Elizabeth in cold blood over some free labor. Did they fight about it? Was it something he complained about often? Did he stop going over and running errands and doing odd jobs for them because he felt taken advantage of?”
Juniper realized that India was waiting for an answer. She shook her head.
“No,” India confirmed. “And what did he do the second he realized they had been shot? He called 911. Who does that? You’d be hard-pressed to find a case study where the killer called in his own crime and then stuck around to be arrested for it.”
“So, who?” Juniper could hardly choke the words out, her throat was so tight.
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Of course, we have all the usual suspects.”
“The Tates,” Juniper supplied, and India tipped her head in acknowledgment. “Weighted equally?”
“No.” India grabbed a tablet off the end table behind her and flipped through a couple of screens until she found what she was looking for. “I wrote up psych profiles on the entire Tate family. Of course, this is all speculation, considering I’ve never interviewed them about it and all I have to go on is hearsay and reputation, but it’s better than nothing.”
Juniper put her wine down on the coffee table.
“The way the murders happened would indicate a crime of passion,” India said. “There was no forethought in this—at least, I don’t believe it was premeditated.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It’s far too sloppy to be planned out. First of all, it happened outside, well after dark, on a holiday. Whoever killed the Murphys couldn’t have known that they would be awake or even home on the night of the Fourth. If the murders had been orchestrated by some criminal mastermind—or even a newbie hack—he would have chosen a different date and time. Why not wait until the following night when he knew they would be in bed together? Why not learn their patterns and schedules and make a safer choice?”
Juniper’s Reddit profiler had said something similar, but it was fascinating to hear how much thought India had put into everything. She knew Jericho. She knew the people who lived here. Juniper felt adrenaline spike in her chest.
“No,” India continued, “whoever shot the Murphys did it spur of the moment. Something set him off. Something compelled him to make a terrible choice.”
“Him?”
“Statistically speaking,” India said matter-of-factly. “Is it possible that it may, indeed, be a woman? Sure, but I doubt it. So let’s talk about bullet trajectories. The first bullet hit Calvin in the shoulder.” She reached out to put a single finger to the place on Juniper’s shoulder. It was just below the bone in the soft meat at the far edge of her collar. Juniper stifled a shiver. “Could have been a lethal shot, but it missed the axillary artery by a couple millimeters and exited out his back at a downward angle. What does that tell us?”
“The killer was taller than Cal?” Juniper guessed.
“Good girl. And not an excellent shot. Although, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was dark. Now, when Cal didn’t instantly go down, our killer realized his mistake and shot again, this time puncturing the chest and obliterating his left ventricle. Ninety-four percent of patients with penetrating thoracic injuries die before they reach the hospital, but I doubt Cal even made it another minute.”
Juniper’s head was swimming, and her vision felt a little clouded around the edges.
India noticed. “I’m going too deep,” she said, setting the tablet aside and taking Juniper briefly by the hand. “I’ll dial it back, okay? I know you knew these people. I know you loved them.”