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Authors: KyAnn Waters
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even though terminating her employment wasn’t fair.
“I had nothing to do with the murder of my father,” McKenna stated. “I want you
to hear it from my lips.”
She fled from the office and out the building. Once
behind the wheel of her vehicle, McKenna drove down Adams Boulevard, fast.
Early in the morning and late afternoon, the street was packed with people
commuting to work. Olden’s hospital was a contributor to gridlock as well as
the university, but midmorning offered open space for her to travel well past
the posted speed of fifty mph as she raced against the tears filling her eyes.
Tires squealed as she rounded the corner into her
neighborhood. Trees reaching to the sky spread their branches overhead making a
canopy of shade for the street. After the ruckus died down, perhaps she would
take a vacation. Somewhere tropical yet isolated like she saw on Corona beer commercials.
McKenna remembered riding a bike for the first time.
Dawn’s dad had held the back of the seat, running beside her until she’d found
her balance. Dawn’s brother’s bike had been the only bike she ever rode.
She almost clipped a beat up truck parked too close to
her driveway. Her car flew up the drive and screeched to a halt in the garage.
The force of her door slamming echoed off the walls. As she passed Elliot’s
car, anger from deep inside bubbled to the surface. She screamed and kicked the
driver’s side door. Metal popped. Swinging back, she kicked again. And again.
And again.
Breathing hard, a satisfying laugh crossed her lips.
In the center of the door, an impressive dent bore the dirty mark from the sole
of her shoe.
“Feel better?”
McKenna jumped at the sound of Detective Pearce’s
voice. Instinctively, she clutched her purse and moved around the front of the
car to avoid getting close to the detective. He casually rested against the
guide rail of the double car garage.
“I had a nice visit with your neighbors. Want to know
what I found out?” He put his foot on the clean chrome bumper of Elliot’s car,
and looked at the scuff on his wing tip.
“No.” She glanced out the back window of the garage
and squinted. “Are those friends of yours, Detective?” Several officers walked
the foothills above her home. Dogs barked as they stuck their noses into
burrowed holes and dense thickets of brush.
“Cadaver dogs.” He moved around the car and bent over
so he could see what she saw. “Think they’ll find anything?”
“It’s not a good day, Detective,” she said as she went
to the wall and pressed the button closing the automatic door. “So if you’ll
excuse me.”
Instead of stepping outside, he let the door close
them inside the garage together.
“That was not an invitation for you to stay.” McKenna
fumbled with her keys. She clawed her bangs from her eyes.
“Here.” He came upon her quietly. Dark hair sprinkled
across his knuckles. His fingers appeared large and tanned next to hers. He
took the keys from her and held up the most obvious triangle key to which
McKenna nodded.
He entered the house ahead of her. “Excuse me.” She
attempted to push him out of the way. “Could you move?” She bumped her hip
against his. “I need to disable the alarm.” She went to the control panel and
set the red blinking light to green.
“Was the alarm active on Sunday night?”
McKenna set her purse on the counter. “Have you ever
driven to work and wondered whether you left the coffeepot on? Or walked into
the bathroom and realized you’d forgotten to flush? It’s the kind of thing you
do without thinking.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “I remember
putting Elliot’s dinner in the refrigerator. I’d come through the front door
because the garage was shut, and I couldn’t find my clicker.” Detective Pearce
sat at the table. She put her hand on her hip. “Since you’re staying, would you
like a cup of coffee?”
Dustin unbuttoned his suit jacket. “That’d be
“I had nothing to do with the murder of my father,” McKenna stated. “I want you
to hear it from my lips.”
She fled from the office and out the building. Once
behind the wheel of her vehicle, McKenna drove down Adams Boulevard, fast.
Early in the morning and late afternoon, the street was packed with people
commuting to work. Olden’s hospital was a contributor to gridlock as well as
the university, but midmorning offered open space for her to travel well past
the posted speed of fifty mph as she raced against the tears filling her eyes.
Tires squealed as she rounded the corner into her
neighborhood. Trees reaching to the sky spread their branches overhead making a
canopy of shade for the street. After the ruckus died down, perhaps she would
take a vacation. Somewhere tropical yet isolated like she saw on Corona beer commercials.
McKenna remembered riding a bike for the first time.
Dawn’s dad had held the back of the seat, running beside her until she’d found
her balance. Dawn’s brother’s bike had been the only bike she ever rode.
She almost clipped a beat up truck parked too close to
her driveway. Her car flew up the drive and screeched to a halt in the garage.
The force of her door slamming echoed off the walls. As she passed Elliot’s
car, anger from deep inside bubbled to the surface. She screamed and kicked the
driver’s side door. Metal popped. Swinging back, she kicked again. And again.
And again.
Breathing hard, a satisfying laugh crossed her lips.
In the center of the door, an impressive dent bore the dirty mark from the sole
of her shoe.
“Feel better?”
McKenna jumped at the sound of Detective Pearce’s
voice. Instinctively, she clutched her purse and moved around the front of the
car to avoid getting close to the detective. He casually rested against the
guide rail of the double car garage.
“I had a nice visit with your neighbors. Want to know
what I found out?” He put his foot on the clean chrome bumper of Elliot’s car,
and looked at the scuff on his wing tip.
“No.” She glanced out the back window of the garage
and squinted. “Are those friends of yours, Detective?” Several officers walked
the foothills above her home. Dogs barked as they stuck their noses into
burrowed holes and dense thickets of brush.
“Cadaver dogs.” He moved around the car and bent over
so he could see what she saw. “Think they’ll find anything?”
“It’s not a good day, Detective,” she said as she went
to the wall and pressed the button closing the automatic door. “So if you’ll
excuse me.”
Instead of stepping outside, he let the door close
them inside the garage together.
“That was not an invitation for you to stay.” McKenna
fumbled with her keys. She clawed her bangs from her eyes.
“Here.” He came upon her quietly. Dark hair sprinkled
across his knuckles. His fingers appeared large and tanned next to hers. He
took the keys from her and held up the most obvious triangle key to which
McKenna nodded.
He entered the house ahead of her. “Excuse me.” She
attempted to push him out of the way. “Could you move?” She bumped her hip
against his. “I need to disable the alarm.” She went to the control panel and
set the red blinking light to green.
“Was the alarm active on Sunday night?”
McKenna set her purse on the counter. “Have you ever
driven to work and wondered whether you left the coffeepot on? Or walked into
the bathroom and realized you’d forgotten to flush? It’s the kind of thing you
do without thinking.” She pressed her fingers to her temple. “I remember
putting Elliot’s dinner in the refrigerator. I’d come through the front door
because the garage was shut, and I couldn’t find my clicker.” Detective Pearce
sat at the table. She put her hand on her hip. “Since you’re staying, would you
like a cup of coffee?”
Dustin unbuttoned his suit jacket. “That’d be
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