Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“Holding cells?” he sputtered. Captain Roberts was a stout, hefty man with red cheeks getting dangerously redder, and a weak quivering jaw that was shaking like Jell-O right then. “Look here, Davis, there won’t be any talk of holding cells. I will not allow LPD to be the top news story—blasting the brutish, heavy-handed cops who rounded innocent people up and treated them like cattle without cause. I—”
“Sir,” Davis cut in, tone calm. “May I request that you let me lead this investigation from this point on? You’ve had more than a little to drink... sir.”
I don’t know if it was what he said, the way he said it, or the obvious delay in address, but Roberts went from red to puce so fast, it could’ve been a health event.
But Davis didn’t waver in his stiff-backed resolve. He had taken control of the scene from the minute our screams brought him running. In an instant, he was on the radio alerting the other officers, locking down the party, and tackling me when I tried to throw myself on my mother.
He dragged me bodily from the room, and no doubt would’ve tried to get me farther than one foot outside the door, but he had to drop me and protect his face because I was doing too good a job clawing it to ribbons.
The man probably would’ve booked me for assault if he didn’t have other things on his mind.
“This is horrible,” Christie cried. Crying into my hair, she crushed me to her chest. “This is so horrible. How could this happen? How!”
“You are under my command,” Roberts roared. “You will do what I say.”
“Without question, sir.” Bleeding from a dozen cuts on his face and a head shorter than his captain, and somehow Davis still looked like the bigger man. “The media will inevitably pick up this story, and my fears are yours, sir. What will they say of the Lantana PD if they discover we compromised the investigation into the murder of a prominent and influential member of our community, because we kowtowed to a bunch of arrogant and entitled cityfolk?
“You are absolutely right, sir, that we cannot allow that to happen. The reputation of our community and those of us who serve it faithfully are at stake. The last thing you will allow, sir, is for the LPD to be called anything less than fair, diligent, and by the book.”
“That— That—” Roberts blinked, wobbling on his feet. Davis was right, the man was completely skunked. “That’s correct, Davis, well said. The men and women who serve me are complete professionals. I won’t have some grubby journalist claim we let the rich play by a different set of rules.”
Clearing his throat, he backed away—looking around at all the officers, event planners, and grieving daughters like he didn’t know what he was doing there. “Davis, you have this in hand. Secure the crime scene until the detectives arrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he finally left, Davis turned to the five officers awaiting his instructions. “Secure the scene— No, secure the entire wing. No one except law enforcement comes anywhere near this area,” he said. “Begin confiscating all the phones, cameras, and recording devices.
“Separate the main suspects from the rest, and keep watch over them at all times. We had officers on all floors and at every staircase, so it shouldn’t be a problem identifying every individual who left the party and came upstairs for whatever reason they gave. But your focus is to be on the staff...” Davis shifted, his gaze penetrating through to my soul. “And the homeowners.
“It is not a coincidence that two elderly women were brutally stabbed and killed only two weeks apart on the same property. Everyone,” he gritted, “and I mean everyone who was in the proximity of those events will speak to us now.
“This never should’ve happened.” Davis’s voice shook. “Twice this killer has struck while surrounded by people, but this time they did it in a manor full of cops—taunting us for being so stupid, arrogant, and slow that we let this happen not once, but twice. The fact is that we have failed the people of this community, and we started with Eleanor Prado. But on my badge, we will not fail Madame Kim as well.”
“Yes, sir,” the officers belted, even though I was fairly sure they were all ranked at the same level as him.
They snapped to it—following his orders of securing the scene, herding the partygoers, and separating the most likely suspects from the least.
Davis approached me.
“Mrs. Kim,” he began, not unkindly. “I am deeply sorry for your loss, and I’m not just parroting what I’ve been told to say. No one should ever have to see their mother that way. No one should lose their mother in such a terrible way. But—”
“But?” Christie cried, holding me tighter. I was a silent, dead-eyed doll in her hands. All I could do was stare at my feet, and the drops of blood on the carpet between my shoes. “What but?”