Read Online The Frailty of Flesh by Sandra Ruttan - Free Book Online

You could tell this was a girl who didn’t cling to delusions or childish optimism. Dreams were already fading as she accepted her place in society’s pecking order.
    Or was it that Craig was projecting himself into the equation? Something about Hope made him think of his half sister, and he swallowed hard. He pushed that thought aside.
    He set the picture down and looked back at the crime-scene photos.
    Craig had wanted to look at the photos before reading the details of Hope’s death. The photos alone wouldn’t tell him how many times she’d cried out for help or for how long she’d suffered before the fatal blow, but they were the only way he could see the crime scene for himself, through his own eyes, untainted by interpretations that would affect how the officers on the scene would record the details.
    Hope’s death had been horrendous. If a picture really was worth a thousand words, that was the first one the photos shouted. The next words that came to mind were brutal and vicious.
    Photo after photo, more of the same. The shock turned to rage. How many times had Hope Harrington been struck? The once-creamy skin was a mass of purple bruises, and where the flesh wasn’t discolored it was broken. In one photo there was a fly in the gaping wound.
    Craig felt his stomach turn.
    The coroner’s report wasn’t any easier to get through. Bludgeoned over five dozen times. Indentations made on the soles of the victim’s feet were consistent with the shape of a twelve-inch crowbar, also known as a wrecking bar. One that was the right size had been located in the Harrington home. Two sets of fingerprints were found on the weapon. Lisa Harrington’s and Donny Lockridge’s.
    Blood and tiny shreds of flesh were found still on the crowbar. Samples taken positively matched Hope Harrington’s DNA.
    The autopsy revealed other injuries. Broken fingers and fractures in the ulna, attributed as defensive wounds. Death had resulted from a particularly vicious series of blows to the head that cracked the skull, although the beating and blood loss may have been enough to kill Hope already. The coroner couldn’t say for certain. If Hope had reached a hospital within a short period of time it may have been enough to save her, if she’d had a skilled surgeon and received immediate care. If, if, if. Hope’s attacker appeared to have started at her feet and worked his way to the top, becoming more vicious and aggressive the more he struck her, leaving no portion of her body untouched.
    And then there were the other wounds. As Craig read through the report, he realized there was no way his dad would want to talk about the specifics of this murder. This was the kind of case he wouldn’t want to remember, but wouldn’t be able to forget.
    The murder had gone beyond personal. It was savage. The body had been dumped, the murder weapon hidden, the scene of the crime never discovered. That meant it wasn’t a place they’d normally gone to, such as his house or hers. Both locations had been searched, and despite public appeals for information the murder site had never been located. The fact that Donny hadn’t murdered Hope at home or any place their friends knew they hung out meant it was somewhere he’d taken Hope to deliberately. Not a crime of passion, not something that happened in the heat of the moment. Premeditated brutality. Someone capable of this level of violence would most likely kill again.
    There was no way his dad would want to see Hope’s killer released early.
    Craig hadn’t stood over Hope’s naked, broken body himself, but he’d seen more than enough to know he didn’t want Donny Lockridge to be released early either.
    No wonder Lisa Harrington had been such a mess. What parent wouldn’t be? Had she identified the body? Craig assumed so. Just as he started flipping through the paperwork to confirm that his phone rang.
    “Constable Nolan.”
    “Craig, it’s Alison.”
    “I tried to call you earlier.”
    “I