Heinous by Debra Webb Read Free Book Online Page A

goose bumps on her skin.
    “Roger! Stay!” The command boomed from inside the house.
    The dog dropped into a sitting position, his attention lingering on Jess.
    McPherson opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. “Come,” he ordered.
    The big dog hustled up the steps to stand next to his master.
    The sound of the car door closing behind Jess signaled that her surveillance detail had returned to his cruiser.
    Jess relaxed. “Roger?” she asked of the man now watching her so intently. “I would’ve expected something like Terminator or Killer.”
    “He was nothing but a pup when he wandered onto my doorstep,” McPherson said, glancing down as his pet. “My wife had left me for another man. I decided I’d name the dog after that lowlife bastard. Seemed fair at the time.” He ruffled the fur at the dog’s nape. “A year later, my ex went off her rocker, shot the guy and herself. Old Roger turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. This one and the other one.” He stared at Jess then, his gaze narrowing. “Why’re you here?”
    “I’m Deputy Chief Harris from the Birmingham Police Department. This is Detective Wells. We’d like to ask you a few questions about an old case, if you have a moment.”
    “I’ve been retired for seven years, Chief. I’m afraid I don’t know anything that could help you, ladies.”
    “That’s strange,” Jess challenged before he could disappear into the house. “Sheriff Foster said nothing happened in your jurisdiction that you didn’t know about. Yet, we dug up a whole slew of bodies right down the road.”
    McPherson’s face darkened. “I’ve already spoken to the agent in charge at the Brownfield farm and given him my insights—for what they’re worth. A good cop would know things like that before she went accusing a man of something.”
    “You know how it is with those Bureau boys,” she shot right back. “Sometimes they don’t like to share.” Jess shrugged. “Personally, I prefer to hear the story straight from the source.”
    The determined set of his jaw as well as his tense posture warned he wasn’t in the mood to chat. “The Brownfields kept to themselves. Never openly broke the law or caused any trouble until Amanda turned sixteen. I’m sure you’ve seen her rap sheet already. As for all those bodies, I was as surprised as the rest of the cops crawling all over that farm.”
    “There was an accident near the bridge—”
    “I can’t help you with your parents’ accident either since I wasn’t involved in the investigation. That was Trooper Darrell Neilson. I expect you know that already, too.”
    “What makes you think I’m here about my parents’ accident?” Jess challenged.
    “I know why you’re here, Chief Harris. No need to pretend otherwise.”
    Foster or someone on his team had evidently already leaked the note to this guy. Great. “Whether you were the investigator or not, you must have formed some conclusions based on what Trooper Neilson told you. I understand you were friends.”
    Three, maybe four seconds elapsed.
    “Your father was driving too fast. For whatever reason, he lost control of the car. No alcohol involved based on the blood alcohol test.” McPherson shrugged. “Maybe they were fighting and he wasn’t paying attention. It happens.”
    “Did you look at the car? Or the bodies?” That thread of tension related to her parents’ deaths that never really went away, tightened as images formed to go with the words.
    “You’re wasting your time asking me questions. There were no witnesses. The investigation found no trouble with the car and no road conditions that would’ve made driving hazardous that night. It was an accident. That’s what Trooper Neilson said in his report. I’m sure you’ve read it for yourself. If not, I suggest you do so.”
    With that, McPherson disappeared inside, the screen door slamming behind him.
    “Well then,” Jess grumbled, “I guess we won’t have