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Back The Hallows Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I parked on the street just as the sun was setting, painting the sky a deep orange. There were two police cruisers there, and Sarah’s Ford Mustang was on the opposite side of the street. When I walked up to the scene, an officer stopped me, but Sarah said, “Let him through.”

I ducked under some police tape and said, “What’s going on?”

“I’ll show you.”

She led me around the horseshoe driveway up to the front door, and we ducked again before we stepped inside. In the atrium was a body. I recognized it but couldn’t place it for a second.

“Mindi Bower’s sister,” Sarah said. “Bethany Bower. Maybe you saw her in the courtroom.”

Around her throat purple and black splotches formed the shape of fingers. Her eyes were cold and distant, glossed over. Two crime-scene techs were taking samples from underneath her fingernails. She had on sparkly pink polish, the kind a teenage girl would pick. It sent a shiver down my back. I’d seen that nail polish before, on a girl from a long time ago, from a past that didn’t seem real anymore. I remembered her in a hospital bed, her face bloodied and bruised.

I looked at the body in front of me and didn’t see a woman; she was just a child.

I’m so sorry, kid.

“Where’s Marcus?” I said.

“Your client is down at the station. I was the one that told your secretary to have you come down here. I wanted you to see this, Tatum. She’s seventeen. She came down here to vent. She wasn’t armed, nothing like that. A neighbor saw the whole thing. She was yelling at Green, and he punched her, knocked her to the ground. Then he dragged her inside, and the neighbor heard screaming. Looks like she’s been strangled to death. Sound familiar, Counselor?”

I stared at Bethany for another second, then turned and left.

6

6

I texted Maggie and told her that it was an emergency and I wouldn’t be coming back to the restaurant. Instead, I headed to the Miami-Dade sheriff’s station. Even the police station here looked like it was owned by millionaires and billionaires. Palm trees, manicured flower beds, and a building that was a mix of old Spanish and modern eclectic. In other words, soulless style, like many of the other buildings that tried to impress people with how much money had been spent on their construction.

I parked in police parking and hurried inside. The deputy behind the check-in desk knew me and had me sign a sheet on a clipboard before I was led back to the interview room.

Marcus Green sat at a gray table. A detective was there, a decent guy named Phillips.