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there anything at all remarkable about this intersection?” she asked.

      “Nothing at all,” Benson said. “It’s just like any other corner in this town.”

      Chloe walked to the end of the corner and looked to the right. If Bjurman was indeed attacked here on the street, this would be where the attacker had been hiding. It would have been easy enough, she supposed. There was no stoplight, just a stop sign. Before the sign, though, there was a monstrous oak tree that had deposited acorns all over the ground. The oak was bordered by withering shrubs. Still, even without their foliage, they would provide more than enough room for someone to remain hidden, so long as they were crouching down.

      “The files state that Bjurman was some sort of athletic trainer,” Chloe said. “Any idea what kind?”

      “Yeah, he was more of a fitness guy, not a trainer per se,” Anderson said. “Worked down at a private gym, but he did house calls, too.”

      “What gym might that be?”

      “Fulbright Fitness. This super pricey place that pushes yoga, sweat rooms, things like that.”

      “And what about Fielding?” Rhodes asked. “What did he do?”

      “Car detailer by day, bartender by night,” Anderson said.

      Chloe did her best to not let her own personal issues cloud her mind, but so far she was having trouble finding a link between the two men and the way they were killed. She was quickly coming to the conclusion that this was not a serial case at all. But even if that was the case, the fact remained that two men had been brutally killed.

      “Victim one didn’t live here in Pine Point, right?” Chloe asked.

      “May as well,” Benson said. “He lived just a few miles outside of town, closer to Winchester. Little town called Colin.”

      Another mark against it being an obvious serial, Chloe thought.

      “Has anyone spoken to Bjurman’s wife yet?” Rhodes asked.

      “Yeah, that would be me,” Anderson said. “Weird situation there. She was very sad, of course, but not as upset as you’d expect.”

      “Any idea why?” Chloe asked.

      “None that she shared. You’re welcome to speak to her yourself. Maybe you can get more out of her than I did.”

      There was no scorn or judgment in the statement. It seemed Anderson and Benson might be glad the bureau had arrived to take this mess off of their hands. They both stood idly by as Chloe and Rhodes snapped a few quick pictures of the scene, as if waiting impatiently for them to make the case magically disappear.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      Jenny Bjurman had clearly been crying, but it did very little to ding the woman’s obvious beauty. She was short-statured and had the sort of body Chloe figured most women would kill for. That body was evident in the T-shirt and yoga pants she was wearing when she invited them into her home. It seemed like an off choice of attire given the circumstances, but she also figured this might be the sort of clothes Jenny Bjurman wore around the house when she had nothing to do. Given the woman’s appearance, it made Chloe wonder how attractive her husband had been.

      “We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us,” Chloe said. “We understand the police gave already talked to you.”

      “It’s quite all right,” Jenny said, sitting down at her kitchen table and sipping on a cup of tea. “I’ll talk to anyone that can help. I’m at a loss for words…for thoughts, for…anything, really.”

      “Forgive us if we repeat questions the cops already asked,” Rhodes said. “But can you think of anyone at all that might have wanted to see your husband dead?”

      “That’s just the thing,” Jenny said. “Everyone loved him. I know how trite that sounds, but so far as I know, it’s true. I can’t think of a single enemy he might have had.”

      “Anyone from work?” Chloe asked. “From Fulbright Fitness, maybe?”

      “It’s doubtful,” she said. “He usually told me about most of what went on at work. Besides, all of his classes at Fulbright are contracted through the owners, not Viktor. Any grievances would go to Fulbright Fitness management.”

      “You say everyone loved him. Can I assume he was a social sort of man?”

      “Yes, very much so. Any new business that opened, or any sort of gala or formal event, he was there. He was also always willing to help anyone. He was the kind of person who would give the shirt off his back if it was necessary.”

      “What about the in-home clients he saw?” Rhodes asked. “Did you know any of them?”

      “I know most of them, yes. Viktor was always sure to let me know when he took on a new client because they were almost always female. He was very open and up front about that. He wanted to make sure I knew when he was going to be in a woman’s home. Their husbands were there most of the time, so it was no big deal.”

      “Do you have a list of his clients?”

      “I don’t, but we have a shared contacts list on our phones. But I think the cops had already worked with the people over at Fulbright Fitness to get a list of his in-home clients.”

      “All the same, if you could provide the names and numbers for us, that would be helpful,” Chloe said.

      “Of course,” Jenny said. As she grabbed her phone from beside her cup of tea, she started to weep softly. She stared at her home screen image, one of her and a man Chloe assumed was her husband. She punched in her code and started sifting through her contacts.

      She gave them the names and numbers of Viktor’s clients one by one. Her voice cracked a bit more each time as she read through the remains of her husband’s life. Chloe, meanwhile, started to connect a few dots in her head as she and Rhodes copied down the list. Nearly every in-home client Viktor Bjurman had was female. And if he looked anything like his wife, she was pretty sure he was having to work extra hard to remain faithful.

      She kept that tucked away in the back of her head as Jenny Bjurman continued to list out the clients. After seven of them, Jenny had to stop. She shoved the phone away with a violent motion and then crumpled onto the kitchen table, where she let out a wail of grief.

      Chloe slowly picked the phone up from the floor and placed it back on the table. When she did, she got a good look at the picture on the home screen and found that Viktor Bjurman was indeed a good-looking man. He and Jenny made a breathtaking couple. And though she hated to go there so quickly, Chloe wondered how a man that handsome was able to go in and out of women’s homes without pissing off at least a few husbands.

***

      Once Jenny had been able to talk coherently again, she looked at Viktor’s schedule and figured out that the last client he had seen before he died was a woman named Theresa Diaz. She lived on Primrose Street, a little less than half a mile away from the Bjurman residence.

      It was just after noon when Rhodes pulled the car in front of the Diaz residence. It was a pretty little home with flowerbeds all along the edges of the house. The two-car garage was open, revealing a single SUV parked inside. The agents stepped out and Rhodes rang the front doorbell. It took a few moments, but it was finally answered by a pretty blonde woman. In a way, it was almost like déjà vu. While she bore at least some resemblance to Jenny Bjurman, there were noticeable differences. One thing the two women did have in common was that they had both been crying—only Theresa Diaz had done her best to make it appear as if she hadn’t.

      “Hello?” she asked in a quizzical voice.

      “Mrs. Diaz, we’re Agents Fine and Rhodes with the FBI,” Chloe said. “We were hoping to ask you some questions about Viktor Bjurman. I assume you’ve heard the news?”

      “I have. And yes, come on in.”

      Theresa led them into her home, a small yet beautifully decorated house. Soft music was coming from somewhere within the house—a soft ballad-like song that Chloe