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      “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 remembered from several years ago. Theresa led them into what served as the living room. Chloe appreciated that there was no television and all the chairs were pointed at one another, indicating the Diaz family was more focused on conversation than bingeing whatever new show everyone was talking about.

      “When did you last see Mr. Bjurman?” Rhodes asked.

      “Yesterday evening. He came over for a Pilates and core training session.”

      “When did he leave?” Chloe asked.

      “I don’t remember the exact time, but the session ended at seven. He’s usually out the door promptly after the session. So I’d say no later than seven-oh-five or so.”

      “Please forgive me asking this,” Chloe said, “but was your husband present during the session?”

      “No.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to decide if she should be insulted by what Chloe might be suggesting. In the end, she shrugged it off and went on as well as she could. “He’s on business right now. He’s not due back for another three days. But my husband has met Viktor and there is nothing to even think about there.”

      She was not being defiant or mean-spirited. Her tone was quite polite, in fact. Still, Chloe noted that the woman had definitely been crying recently.

      “Did you know Mr. Bjurman outside of your professional relationship?” Rhodes asked. “That is, would you consider the two of you friends?”

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