“Bill, they’ve got the resources. They’ll lead and we’ll support them. Meanwhile, do only what needs to be done now. Protect the evidence and the scene, seal the place. Call in everyone you need, off-duty, vacation, I don’t care. I’ll sign off on the overtime. I’ll alert the RCMP.”

Pushing back on his frustration at having to turn the case over to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, Jurek called in Eternity’s K-9 unit. He needed them now because the suspects were at large and could harm others.

Jurek called in every officer he could reach. He was going to need all the help he could get before things got out of hand because news had spread fast. While making calls, Jurek watched the tangle of nonpolice vehicles, concerned people and gawkers growing on the side of the road. He recognized a reporter from the Eternity Bulletin and one from Sparrow 101 Radio News in Alden. Danny Dufrense was doing a good job of keeping everyone back and off the property.

So far, Jurek thought, as Meyer got a call advising them that Connie Tullock was still alive and in surgery.

Jurek hurried out of his coveralls, left instructions for Meyer, the K-9 unit and other officers arriving at the scene. Then with sirens and lights going, Jurek made the half hour drive to Alden in half the time, where he sat by Connie’s bedside, waiting, hoping, she would awaken.

It was coming up on ninety minutes since the surgery and Jurek was reviewing his notes and checklist. Occasionally, he’d step into the hall and use the phone at the nurses’ station to make calls. They needed to get the RCMP’s forensic unit in the Tullock house to process everything—the blood trail, the window, the message—to determine where the evidence pointed.

Who could do this? My God, who could commit such an outrage to children?

From time to time he glanced at Connie, bandaged, sedated, tubes and sensors fastened to her body. He only knew the Tullocks socially from attending local fund-raisers. He liked Roy; everyone did. Roy was a decent man. But Connie came off as a pretentious woman and Jurek got the sense that few people liked her. But whatever thoughts he’d had about Connie Tullock dissolved in that hospital room in the wake of what had happened to her son, her daughter, her husband, and to her.

Nobody deserved this. If she lived, a nightmare awaited her.

She still had Torrie, her teenage daughter. Jurek caught his breath.

Connie’s fingers trembled, then her hand lifted a fraction from the bed and she released a gurgle.

“Nurse?” Jurek said.

The nurse rose from her chair, tended to Connie while glancing at the monitor, then pressed the button over the bed. Connie stirred. A moment later the doctor arrived and examined her as her eyes blinked open.