Page 5 of Fatal Strike
“Or beach time.” A gust of wind picked up a swirl of sand and playfully danced across the shore.
“Can we investigate this case without killing each other?” he said. “Haven’t worked an investigation with another sniper.”
Jon didn’t say a woman. A point for his side. “Me either. We might have similar ways of analyzing evidence.”
“We can work smart, be aware of the tendency.”
The Venenos believed they were impregnable, but a cocky attitude would be their downfall.
4
WHILE JON DROVEto the Mendez residence on the west side of Galveston Island, Leah read through SAC Thomas’s report and information online.
“Did you know Rachel Mendez was a former attorney?” she said.
Jon lifted his chin. “She’s a smart woman and reportedly active in the judge’s affairs.”
Leah paused to focus on what little she knew of the woman—age forty-two, fourteen years younger than the judge. Questions mounted.
“Do we know the ages of the children? Hold on, I’ll look.” Leah scrolled through her phone. “Their oldest child is a girl, age five. And a baby boy. Nix the idea of the kids offering a testimony.”
Leah spotted the Mendez home—a three-story beach structure painted mint green and erected on stilts disguised with white latticework. A photographer’s dream view of the ocean. The kind of home Pinterest users drool over and pin to a board titled Perfect Vacation Spot. Palm trees swayed and boats dipped in the water like kids bobbing in a pool. This morning’s sunlight held stage over jewel-studded water, peaceful and breathtaking, except for the reason she and Jon were there.
Jon rang the doorbell, and a police officer opened the door. After Jon and Leah identified themselves and displayed their creds, the officer stepped aside for them to enter a light-filled living area with a rear wall of glass facing the bay. A cream-colored sofa and turquoise-and-cream chairs were positioned with views of the water. Wall hangings and accents picked up the colors and beach theme.
The police officer disappeared to speak to Mrs. Mendez. Leah would be the primary in the questioning unless the woman preferred talking to Jon.
Within a few minutes, Rachel Mendez emerged dressed in stylish torn jeans, a white shirt, and gold sandals. Leah recognized her from online pics. She’d been a model before turning lawyer, and it was no surprise Judge Mendez had fallen in love. Her features were airbrush perfect—light-brown, shoulder-length hair and huge blue eyes. She carried a toddler boy, and alittle girl held an older woman’s hand. Both children resembled their father’s roots and had their mother’s delicate features.
Jon introduced himself and Leah, and each presented their card to her.
“Agents Colbert and Riesel, please sit down.” With red-rimmed eyes, Mrs. Mendez pointed to the seating area. She introduced her mother. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right withyou. We just returned from the hospital. My children are clingy, and neither want to stay with theirabuela. They’re too young to comprehend what has happened, but they sense something is terribly wrong.”
The two women disappeared with the children. From another room, the cries of unhappy little ones met her and Jon’s ears. Leah spotted a family portrait on a nearby distressed-wood credenza. Judge Mendez and his family smiled into the camera. Nothing would ever be the same for this family struck by tragedy.
Mrs. Mendez returned and sat opposite them. “My mother has been a wonderful help. I’m fortunate she lives on the island. She’s always been there for me, a saint like my dear husband.”
“We are very sorry for your loss.” Leah allowed sympathy to lace her words. “We promise to find whoever’s responsible for your husband’s death.”
She shook her head. “You can’t promise anything, Agent Riesel. We can only pool our thoughts and resources to bring these tragedies to an end.” She breathed in deeply, no doubt for control, and resumed her poised stance. “I want my husband’s killers found and prosecuted.”
A take-charge woman. “You’re a brave woman.” Leah added compassion to her tone. “Do we have your permission to record our conversation?”
She met Leah’s gaze. “My background and the judge’s voice whispering in my ear tells me to have an attorney present, but I am an attorney. Record it. I don’t want to go through the interview again.”
Jon pulled out his phone and laid it on the table between the women.
“Agent Colbert and I will be asking questions, but for nowwe need to hear from you exactly what happened prior to learning about your husband’s death. We respect your pain. Don’t feel like you must hide your emotions.”
Rachel stared at her hands folded in her lap. “Thank you. I’ll do my best. I must be strong for my children and those around me.” She blinked back a tear, and the mask of a sophisticated woman lifted to reveal grief.
“Take your time, Mrs. Mendez.”
Mrs. Mendez closed her eyes. “The judge ran weekday mornings. He claimed exercise gave him energy for the day. This morning he kissed me good-bye while I was still in bed and said to have the coffee ready.” She sighed and bit back a sob. “He said the same thing every morning he ran, his way of saying he loved me. We treasured our early mornings together, sharing coffee and greeting our children as they wakened. When he didn’t return, I thought he’d stopped for breakfast, which he does on occasion.”
Rachel glanced out onto the waters, then back to Leah. “Father Gabriel contacted me, but when he said he and Nicolás were at the church, I knew something was wrong. My husband would have called me, not Father Gabriel. I had no idea that when my husband kissed me, it would be our last time together.” She blinked back tears.
“Has there been anything unusual about his behavior?” Leah said.
