by Marlow Kelly
Booley grunted, knocking her shoulder as he passed through the door.
She ignored his juvenile antics and flipped open her notebook, concentrating on the task at hand.
A trace of a white powdery substance covered Ben’s face. A chair near the small kitchenette lay on its side. The kitchen cupboards and drawers were all open. Someone had been searching for something. From her position at the door, she couldn’t see if the loft had been ransacked, but the living area seemed to be untouched. Maybe the assailant had found whatever they were looking for in the kitchen and hadn’t gone through the rest of the house.
Booley’s heavy footsteps thudded through the door. He didn’t bump into her as he entered, which was a relief. Booley was a jerk. Dealing with his attitude was a challenge at the best of times. She didn’t need the distraction while working a case.
“So you think Jack Morgan killed him?” Dana hadn’t met Jack and hadn’t wanted to. It was better for her peace of mind if she stayed away from the Morgans. It helped that their ranch was on the other side of Molly’s Mountain, away from Hopefalls and in Elkhead County.
Booley hunched down next to Ben. “It’s doubtful. Jack’s suffering from Alzheimer’s. He’s in a care home in Granite City, but he has a son, Timothy.”
“Tim Morgan? The same Tim Morgan who killed Aunt Alice?” She backed through the door, but stopped before she stumbled down the steps.
Booley straightened and then nodded.
An invisible vice tightened around Dana’s chest. Tim Morgan had devastated her family when he’d caused the car accident that had taken Aunt Alice’s life. Unable to deal with his sister’s death, her father had moved the family to Spokane, a place where she, at thirteen, had been an outsider. It was the beginning of a dark time in her life, one that had lasted until she’d joined the Spokane police force in her twentieth year.
Dana straightened her shoulders. “I need you to leave the scene now.”
“Sounds like you mean business.”
“Yes, sir.” She took one last look at the body. Although four wounds punctured the chest, there was very little blood. Damn. No blood meant Ben was already dead when he was shot. No, she couldn’t draw any conclusions. All she could do was wait for the medical examiner’s report and go from there.
She marched to her car, opened the trunk, and took out some crime scene tape and paper bags. The bags were to preserve any evidence on Ben’s hands. She was doing this by the book. This was their chance to get Timothy Morgan. Nineteen years ago, he’d gotten away with killing Aunt Alice.
He wouldn’t get away this time.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
