your feet.”
Damien waved at Hunter as he got into Frank’s truck. “Sorry. I’m ready now.” He snapped his seat belt on. “What were you and Hunter talking about?”
“You always hovering over your kids like this? No wonder they’re going berserk.”
“Is Hunter going berserk? Is that what you’re sensing? Because I think I caught him with porn the other night.”
“He was just getting some Uncle Frank time, okay? Sometimes it’s easier to talk to people outside your family.”
Damien sighed. “Yeah, okay. I guess. But you have to tell me if he’s getting into something he shouldn’t.”
Frank pulled the truck onto the neighborhood street. “You shouldn’t worry so much about him. He’s a good kid. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“I know he is.” Damien pulled out his notepad. “So what is it that we’re going to?”
Frank gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road ahead as they turned onto Shelton Street. “You should prepare yourself. This might be disturbing.”
8
Frank parked his extended cab at the curb and got out of the truck, searching for Captain Grayson among a crowd of emergency personnel mingled with the curious neighbors. Damien came up beside him.
Frank spoke quietly. “I can’t say much here, okay? Just walk around, see what you can find out, ask a lot of questions. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Frank walked along the street, the flashing lights of the cruisers leading the way to the house. An ambulance was parked on the other side of the roadblock, its back doors open and its bed empty.
The Shaws’ house bustled with activity. Several officers from the night shift milled around outside. Crime scene tape, tied from one tree to another, fluttered against the cold north wind. Frank followed the sidewalk and was about to enter the house when Detective Dean Murray exited.
“Hey, Frank,” he said. “Grayson’s looking for you.”
“What’s going on in there?”
“They’re working on the lady right now. Not sure if she’s going to make it.”
“What happened?” Frank asked, glancing behind him toward the reverend’s yard across the street. The couple stood by the tree where their cat had hung just hours before. “Are those two suspects?”
Detective Murray looked up to see what Frank was talking about. “No. The husband confessed. He’s in there right now. They’re taking him in for more questioning.”
“The husband? Tim?”
“Yeah,” Murray said, checking his notes. “That’s his name. Tim Shaw.” He continued down the sidewalk.
Frank gathered himself, unsure of what he was going to find.
Upon entering, he noticed the enlarged photo of the finance guy was tipped to the side, leaning against the drapes of the large window. Tim sat on the couch, crying, a night shift officer on either side of him.
“What have I done?” Tim moaned, shaking his head, hiding his face against the handcuffs around his wrists. He looked up at Frank.
Frank noticed movement and shouting near the kitchen. He squeezed around a small crowd of firefighters to where two EMTs were hunched over someone.
He assumed it was Darla. Her feet, shoeless but with pink socks, were barely visible at the moment. Her left hand outstretched on the kitchen tile, frozen in a clawlike grip.
“Save her! Please!” Tim’s shrill voice punctured through tense noises of the room.
What could’ve happened here?
“Frank,” said a calm voice behind him. Grayson.
“What in the world is going on?”
The captain’s tone was somber. He glanced at Darla on the floor and then at Tim. “He lost his temper. That’s what he’s telling us. He was asking for the officer he first talked to. He couldn’t remember your name.”
Frank turned back to Darla. As the EMTs moved around her, he saw glimpses of her shirt, bloodied. Her chin also bloodied.
“He apparently threw a remote control. It hit her skull. He claims it was an accident, that she stepped right in his
Damien waved at Hunter as he got into Frank’s truck. “Sorry. I’m ready now.” He snapped his seat belt on. “What were you and Hunter talking about?”
“You always hovering over your kids like this? No wonder they’re going berserk.”
“Is Hunter going berserk? Is that what you’re sensing? Because I think I caught him with porn the other night.”
“He was just getting some Uncle Frank time, okay? Sometimes it’s easier to talk to people outside your family.”
Damien sighed. “Yeah, okay. I guess. But you have to tell me if he’s getting into something he shouldn’t.”
Frank pulled the truck onto the neighborhood street. “You shouldn’t worry so much about him. He’s a good kid. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“I know he is.” Damien pulled out his notepad. “So what is it that we’re going to?”
Frank gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road ahead as they turned onto Shelton Street. “You should prepare yourself. This might be disturbing.”
8
Frank parked his extended cab at the curb and got out of the truck, searching for Captain Grayson among a crowd of emergency personnel mingled with the curious neighbors. Damien came up beside him.
Frank spoke quietly. “I can’t say much here, okay? Just walk around, see what you can find out, ask a lot of questions. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Frank walked along the street, the flashing lights of the cruisers leading the way to the house. An ambulance was parked on the other side of the roadblock, its back doors open and its bed empty.
The Shaws’ house bustled with activity. Several officers from the night shift milled around outside. Crime scene tape, tied from one tree to another, fluttered against the cold north wind. Frank followed the sidewalk and was about to enter the house when Detective Dean Murray exited.
“Hey, Frank,” he said. “Grayson’s looking for you.”
“What’s going on in there?”
“They’re working on the lady right now. Not sure if she’s going to make it.”
“What happened?” Frank asked, glancing behind him toward the reverend’s yard across the street. The couple stood by the tree where their cat had hung just hours before. “Are those two suspects?”
Detective Murray looked up to see what Frank was talking about. “No. The husband confessed. He’s in there right now. They’re taking him in for more questioning.”
“The husband? Tim?”
“Yeah,” Murray said, checking his notes. “That’s his name. Tim Shaw.” He continued down the sidewalk.
Frank gathered himself, unsure of what he was going to find.
Upon entering, he noticed the enlarged photo of the finance guy was tipped to the side, leaning against the drapes of the large window. Tim sat on the couch, crying, a night shift officer on either side of him.
“What have I done?” Tim moaned, shaking his head, hiding his face against the handcuffs around his wrists. He looked up at Frank.
Frank noticed movement and shouting near the kitchen. He squeezed around a small crowd of firefighters to where two EMTs were hunched over someone.
He assumed it was Darla. Her feet, shoeless but with pink socks, were barely visible at the moment. Her left hand outstretched on the kitchen tile, frozen in a clawlike grip.
“Save her! Please!” Tim’s shrill voice punctured through tense noises of the room.
What could’ve happened here?
“Frank,” said a calm voice behind him. Grayson.
“What in the world is going on?”
The captain’s tone was somber. He glanced at Darla on the floor and then at Tim. “He lost his temper. That’s what he’s telling us. He was asking for the officer he first talked to. He couldn’t remember your name.”
Frank turned back to Darla. As the EMTs moved around her, he saw glimpses of her shirt, bloodied. Her chin also bloodied.
“He apparently threw a remote control. It hit her skull. He claims it was an accident, that she stepped right in his
Similar Books
