Eve of Redemption by Tom Mohan Read Free Book Online Page A

shoulders twisted in a direction they were never meant to bend. His head swam, and he stumbled as he tried to keep his balance.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “You don’t know, huh? Don’t know nothin’? Well, I’m gonna show you.”
    Martinez gave him a rough shove toward the back of the house. He pointed his flashlight before them as he guided Burke through the kitchen and pulled him to a stop just outside the laundry room’s open door. Without a word, Martinez pointed his light at the laundry room floor where something had been spilled. Burke squinted and saw that the spilled liquid was red.
    Blood.
    “What…? Whose is that?” Burke asked.
    Martinez shrugged. “It’s your house.”
    Burke turned back to the puddle of blood. Martinez held the light steady, and Burke saw that the fronts of both the washer and dryer were smeared with blood.
    “Want to see the rest?” Martinez asked.
    Burke opened his mouth, but no answer came out. He shook his head back and forth. No, if there was more here, he had no desire to see it.
    “Oh, come on. Let’s see what’s behind door number one, shall we?” Martinez’s voice left no room for argument. Burke had not known Martinez well, but he remembered the man to be one of those people who didn’t let things get to him. He had always been calm and professional, not allowing himself to get emotional about cases. Either things had changed, or something else was going on.
    The dryer door sat partially open, and Martinez used his toe to pull it wider. Inside, Burke saw what looked like a pair of jeans. Then Martinez grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed his face almost into the machine. Even through his swollen nose, Burke picked up the coppery scent of blood. As Martinez focused the light directly into the dryer, Burke saw that the jeans appeared to have a knee in them, and a pale hand rested on that knee. Martinez moved the light just a bit to better display a ragged, bloody stump where the head should have been. A body.
    “See that?” Martinez asked. “Now, let’s see what’s behind door number two.”
    Martinez moved the light from the body in the dryer to the front of the washer. At first, Burke thought he was supposed to look at the smears of blood on the front. Then the light shifted up to the clear plastic window in the door. A face gazed back at him from within, bulging eyes pleading to be let out. Burke stumbled back, but the rock-solid form of Martinez behind him left no room for escape.
    “Know who that is?” Martinez asked. Much of the anger had faded, leaving him sounding tired and drained.
    Burke took another look into the washer. The face was covered in bright tattoos.
    Not waiting for an answer, Martinez said, “That’s one of the kids that beat you up this morning.” He waved the light between the two appliances. “Bit much, don’t you think?”
    Burke tried to think, tried to trace back his steps of the day, but so much of it was a blur. He did recognize the kid, now that Martinez had identified him. This was the kid who had started it all. But still, Burke knew he would never do anything like this. He wasn’t even capable. Was he?
    “I didn’t do this,” Burke said. “You have to believe me. I did not do this.”
    “Yeah?” Martinez replied. “Who did?”
    Martinez jerked Burke out of the laundry room and back to the front of the house. He turned Burke so that they faced each other, and then he shined his light up and down Burke’s body. “The blood on you is consistent with the beating you took this morning, I’ll give you that.” He spun Burke around and inspected his back. Moving around so he could look into Burke’s face, Martinez said, “This is some crazy stuff. Someone put that kid in there, and that someone did it very recently. Don’t know nothin’ about that?”
    The big cop grabbed Burke’s arm and propelled him into a chair. “You’re going to tell me a story, Mr. Burke. I don’t care