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left by the front door.
    “There’s an elevator,” D.D. said.
    “Seriously?”
    “Yep. Shoots all the way from the basement garage to the fourth-story rooftop patio. The beautifully wood-paneled double door you see off each hallway—the elevator door is tucked behind it. Panel slides to the right, you hit the button and voilà. I bet the wife uses it every time she returns home from yoga.”
    Tessa didn’t say anything. Apparently, running a hundred-million-dollar construction firm had its perks.
    “Also, in the basement,” D.D. continued, “a wine cellar, built-in gun safe and an au pair suite. Wine cellar and gun safe are both locked and appear undisturbed. The au pair suite wasn’t locked, but equally undisturbed.”
    “Do they have a nanny?”
    “Not anymore. Probably when Ashlyn was young, though. Now they just employ the housekeeper, Dina Johnson, and she doesn’t live on the property.”
    “Big house for three people,” Tessa observed. “What are we looking at, about two thousand square feet per family member? How do they even find each other?”
    D.D. shrugged. “A lot of families seem to prefer it that way.”
    “Sophie still crawls into my bed half the time,” Tessa heard herself say.
    “Really? I only wish Jack would sleep. Apparently, he’s on a five-year plan.”
    “Don’t worry. Preschool will take the fight out of him. Toddlers chase other toddlers around all day, and next thing you know, they’re asleep by seven.”
    “Great. Just two more years to go.”
    “Assuming you’re only going to have one child.”
    “Hah, I was doing good to reproduce at forty. As far as I’m concerned, the baby factory is out of business. You’re the youngster; you have a second, and I’ll borrow.”
    They arrived on the third floor, the staircase dumping them into a wide hallway liberally sprinkled with doorways. Tessa immediately spotted half a dozen evidence placards, plus one lanky, carrot-topped detective leaning against the wall, surveying the scene.
    “Neil,” D.D. called out. “Brought you a guest.”
    Neil looked up, blinked his eyes. Tessa still thought the redhead looked approximately sixteen, but then he narrowed his gaze, and she saw crow’s-feet crinkle the corner of his blue eyes.
    “What?”
    She stepped forward, offering a hand. “Tessa Leoni. Northledge Investigations. The owner of the property, Denbe Construction, hired me to conduct an independent assessment of the situation.”
    “The owner? Denbe Construction… Wait. Tessa Leoni? The Tessa Leoni?”
    It had been only two years, and given the media attention at the time… Tessa waited patiently.
    Neil swung his attention to D.D. “You let her in? Without asking me? If I’d done that when you were in charge, you would’ve skinned me alive with a rusty razor, then gotten out a shaker of salt.”
    “I made her promise not to touch anything,” D.D. said mildly.
    “I only want the computers,” Tessa interjected. “And I won’t even take them. Just need to check something first. You can watch. But”—she shot a glance at D.D. just for sport—“your turn to promise not to touch.”
    Neil scowled at both of them. “This is a time-sensitive investigation!”
    “Yes.”
    “Not to mention a highly complex crime scene!”
    “How many perpetrators do you think?” Tessa asked him.
    “At least two. Taser guy. Boot guy. Wait. I don’t have to share any information with you.”
    “True, but Denbe Construction would appreciate your cooperation, which in turn will help you later, when no doubt you’re going to need information from them.”
    Neil scowled again, then pursed his lips, considering. Tessa wasn’t touching anything, and they would need help from Justin’s construction firm, with requests to view corporate financials and personnel files being on the top of any good detective’s next-steps list.
    “I think there were three to four guys,” Neil said, more considerate now. “But I can’t pinpoint exactly