two fingers
to his neck. Nothing. Not that she’d expected a pulse, but… damn .
She straightened with a sigh. Removing a napkin one-handed from her pocket, she wiped
the rust-flaked residue from her fingertips and carefully repocketed the tissue. Weapon
still drawn, she sidestepped the body and gore, circled the island, and exited the
kitchen. For the next ten minutes, she worked her way through the two-bedroom home,
careful to touch as little as possible. She didn’t enter the bedrooms off the hall
but elbowed the doors open so she could peer in and scan the area in case another
person had been harmed.
A shudder passed over her as she stepped back over the kitchen threshold and into
the tiny backyard. She tugged down the shirt from her nose and mouth and inhaled her
first deep breath in ten minutes. Striding away from the house, she holstered the
SIG and removed her cell from her pants pocket.
Trembling, she dialed.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“My name is Leah Bannon,” she said, surprised her voice didn’t betray the tremors
rippling though her. “I need to report a murder.”
Chapter Five
The trip to Evelyn Sheldon’s Dorchester home from his Charlestown condo should have
taken twenty minutes. Gabriel made it in fifteen. Images of blood, broken limbs, twisted
metal, gasoline-soaked gifts—
No, damn it! He shook his head as he strode up the sidewalk. Get a fucking grip .
He gritted his teeth, and forced the constricting bands around his chest to loosen.
After a moment the paralyzing terror receded, leaving thin, icy remnants of fear slithering
in his veins.
When Leah had called to tell him what had happened, she’d assured him she was fine.
Gabriel kept reminding himself of that. And thankfully Evelyn hadn’t been home. His
loved ones were okay.
They. Were. Okay .
A murder. At Aunt Evelyn’s. Jesus . The victim could only be one person—Darion Sheldon, his aunt’s husband of ten years
and Chay’s stepfather.
How could this have happened? True, Dorchester wasn’t the best of Boston’s neighborhoods,
but as long as he and Chay had been friends—which had been all of their lives—nothing
like this had ever taken place in this neighborhood. He’d always felt safe here.
Hell, how was Evelyn going to deal with Darion’s death? First Richard, now this. She
would be crushed.
Sorrow curled in Gabriel’s gut. Been there, still doing that .
Sometimes, this world could be a really fucked-up place.
Yellow-and-black caution tape already barricaded the property, warning onlookers to
maintain their distance. Well, he wasn’t an onlooker.
He skimmed his gaze over the heads of several officers looking for a recognizable
long, dark ponytail. Not with them , he noted, impatient frustration spilling through him. Peering at the front door
of the olive-green house that had been like a second home to him, he squinted at the
two police officers who stood in the open doorway. It seemed…profane.
He pushed forward up the driveway and was immediately stopped with an authoritative
palm to the chest. The police officer frowned as Gabriel leaned into his hand.
“Stop right there, sir. You can’t pass.”
“I’m family,” Gabriel insisted.
The officer’s expression remained placid, but his hand exerted more pressure. “I understand,
sir, but I’ll need to verify—”
“He’s okay, Officer Jamison,” a woman called out. “He’s with the family. Please let
him through.”
Jamison nodded and lowered his arm, complying with Leah’s request. With barely a glance
at the cop, Gabriel ducked under the tape and strode forward. But, as if an invisible
wall had sprung up, he drew to a sharp halt at the bottom of the paved walk leading
to the porch. And not out of respect for the crime scene before him.
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized the tension within him stretching tighter than
a guitar string was due to a