Chapters (41)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Also by Linda Castillo
- About the Author
- Copyright
A .22-caliber revolver lies on the dirt floor a few inches from his right hand. Rising, I turn away from the sight and grapple for my cell phone. Even though we use the ten code system here in Painters Mill, there are certain situations that are best handled off the radio. A lot of people in the area have police scanners. It’s never a good thing for them to find out about a death before the next of kin.
“Mona.”
“Hey, Chief.”
“I’m out here at the Yoder Apple Farm. I found Hoch Yoder. He’s DOA. Possible suicide.”
“Do you want me to send the coroner?”
“Yeah.” I look at Hoch and, in light of the murders, I’m reminded that not every scene is as it appears at first glance. “Give BCI a call, too, will you? See if we can get a CSU out here.”
“Got it.” A thoughtful pause ensues. “You sound kind of funny, Chief. Are you okay?”
I’m not sure how to respond to that. I’m not okay. I feel sucker-punched because this decent man saw death as a better alternative than life—and his only escape from the truth and the agony of his past. I can’t help but wonder if our conversation the night before was the final straw.
But this isn’t about me or the way I feel. It’s about hatred and revenge and stopping a killer.
Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
According to a poll I read in a magazine a while back, something like 71 percent of people hate their jobs. I’m lucky because I’m one of the minority. In fact, most days I love my job. I love being a police officer. I enjoy my duties as chief and the people I work with on a daily basis. I take pride in what I do, and I take seriously my oath to serve and protect the citizens of Painters Mill. But no job is perfect, including mine. Tonight, I hate my job with a passion.
T.J. is the first to arrive. We spend a few minutes walking the scene, and then I help him mark the perimeter with yellow caution tape. All the while the knowledge that Hannah Yoder is back at the house, frightened and wondering why a second police unit has arrived, beats at the back of my brain. I know that in a few minutes I’m going to bring her world crashing down around her.