Millie's gaze flicks from the small blood-stained box to the approaching officer. Air catches in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Her initial thought is to hide it. But she knows that would make her look more guilty in the eyes of the law. "A bloody package on my porch certainly won't make me look innocent. She concludes.
Her entire body begins to tremble. Her hands become clammy as a ribbon of sweat beads pops out across her forehead. The officer's issued work boots crunch steadily against the pavement, each step louder, seeming more judgy than the last. There's only one thing to do, Millie reasons, trying to control the panic clawing at her chest. She swallows hard, hoping to summon up what little courage she has left. "I'm so glad you're here," she blurts.
Rachel stops. Her eyes narrow as a flash of suspicion crosses her face. Her hand instinctively drops to her revolver. "Why? What's going on?"
Millie's voice wavers as she explains. "I heard a knock at the door. When I went to answer it, I found this." She points to the container beside her.
Rachel steps closer; her eyes harden as she continues to investigate the box. "I need you to move away from it now."
Millie practically leaps from the porch, glad to be away from the gruesome thing. Doom suddenly replaces the panic she'd felt moments before. This situation may not end well for me, she thinks.
Rachel crouches by the parcel, her phone in hand. She snaps a series of photos, turns, and asks, "Did you see who left it?"
Millie's voice is barely audible when she says, "They were gone by the time I reached the door."
Rachel points to the sign on the lawn. "I see you have an alarm system, so are cameras included with that too?"
"The alarm company is supposed to install them tomorrow."
Reaching for her radio, Rachel says, "Dispatch, I need forensics and additional units at 12275 Hummingbird Lane." There's a short burst of static, followed by confirmation. Nodding, she turns to Millie. "Was tonight the first time you've received anything like this?"
Millie recalls the strange box she'd found on the table. She then remembers her aunt claiming she took a few things the last time she was there. "Yes."
"You didn't touch or move it in any way?"
Millie shakes her head. "I found it moments before you arrived."
"And you claim that someone knocked, but when you went to answer it, no one was there?"
"I opened the door immediately, but whoever it was had already gone."
Rachel studies Millie's movements, knowing that they often show guilt. But all she sees is an exhausted woman trying to survive a tragic event. "Have you noticed anything unusual in your neighborhood recently? A strange vehicle driving by, or people who don't live in the area?"
Millie thinks back, then shakes her head again. "No."
"You have no idea what might be inside the box?"
Millie glances at the package, shivers, then shakes her head.
Headlights piercing through the darkness draw their attention. A few seconds later, a forensics van pulls up to the curb, followed closely by a few patrol cars.
Uniformed officers fan out across the neighborhood. A few forensic techs begin searching the yard while the remaining two climb the steps.
Rachel explains the situation as they snap on their gloves. She points to Millie. "You should go back inside where it's safe." Nodding, she quickly retreats to the house.
Closing the door, Millie steps further inside. Curiosity getting the better of her, she runs back to the foyer and peers through the glass.
The lead forensic tech kneels closer to the box. After a quick inspection, he asks, "No one tampered with it?"
"The homeowner claimed she just noticed it just as I was pulling up."
Snapping several photos from different angles, he carefully opens the lid. His expression hardens when he sees what's inside.
"What is it?" Rachel asks, peering over his shoulder.
"I see two items. A bloody sweater and a USB drive." He carefully lifts the soaked fabric from the container. Blood drips onto the cement as he slips it into the bag his partner is holding open for him. Turning, he retrieves the USB and places it in a second container. He then places the box into a larger plastic bin as his partner diligently records every step. Once the collection is complete, the two partners log each of the items.
"Be sure to get a close-up of the porch, steps, and walk." The tech takes a few pictures and then says, "We should have a preliminary for you by the end of the day." Packing up their equipment, they head towards their van.
Rachel is about to knock on the door when the barrier swings open. She finds Millie pale and visibly shaken.
"I've been watching from inside," she explains. Her voice was wavering with every word.
"Can you think of anyone who'd want to do this to you?"
Millie's lips tremble as she recalls the last two days she's had. "The entire nursing staff hates me. They've even nicknamed me Black Widow, avoiding me any chance they get."
"Black Widow?" Rachel asks, surprised.
"They blame me for all of the deaths."
"That must make things at work very difficult."
"I try to ignore them." Millie's eyes show the pain she's trying so desperately to hide.
"Can I speak to your husband? He might've seen something unusual and didn't tell you."
"He had to return to the base this morning. Seeing the confused expression on Rachel's face, she explains. "He was only on temporary leave for his father's funeral. He asked for an extension with everything going on at the house but was denied."
"What time did he leave?"
"His flight left at midnight."
Rachel jots that down. "You said the alarm company is finishing up today?"
"Yes. Steven insisted we add a few cameras. He even suggested a dog, but I don't have time for one. And I don't like having fur all over the house."
"So where have you been between your husband's departure and now?"
"I was here, at home, trying to catch up on my housework."
"Can anyone confirm that?"
"The alarm has been set from the time he left up until the time I answered the door."
Rachel hands her a card. "Call us if you think of anything."
Rachel is heading towards her car when one of the officers intercepts her. He clears his throat and says, "Sergeant, the neighbor across the street claims she saw Millie leave the house shortly after her husband. She said she wouldn't have thought much of it—given Millie's strange hospital hours—but then she noticed her getting into an Uber with another man. She said the man looked almost identical to Millie's husband except for the additional weight."
Rachel's brows knit, and her jaw tightens. "Track down that Uber driver and find out where they went." Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She turns to answer it. "Bower."
"Sergeant, it's Jerry. Lisa Burk was just found dead in the Walmart parking lot."
Rachel's eyes flick toward the house, her gaze burning like fire. This case just turned personal. "I'll be right there. In the meantime, I want you to check Millie Clark's alarm log; her carrier is ADT.
"Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"
"I want you to find out if her system was disabled anytime between midnight and now."