Dante and Moreno step farther into the house and head for the hallway, examining the deceased from a distance. “Just the one intruder?” Moreno asks.
“Should we be expecting more?” Nova’s voice raises with alarm.
Dante exchanges a silent glance at Moreno, his jaw tight and lips a firm line as he takes two steps closer to further examine the body, without so much as touching it. He’s careful to step around the pooling blood that’s seeped into the carpet and keep a distance as not to leave any of his own DNA or evidence behind.
“He’s Massimo’s son, Santino DeLuca. From the chatter, we’ve ascertained that Santino was running his father’s business.” Dante rubs his jaw, clearly troubled. He turns his attention to Moreno. “This doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“It does, but Santino is young and foolhardy.” Moreno clears his throat. “Do you mind?” he asks Luca as he points toward Zeke’s bedroom.
“Go right ahead.” Luca holds Zeke to his chest, comforting the little guy and letting him eat a purple popsicle which has now covered the kid in stickiness.
Zeke sniffles, but Luca is careful to keep just out of view of the dead body and blood, trying his damndest not to re-traumatize his son.
Careful to step around the deceased and not leave footprints in the blood-soaked carpet, Moreno pushes open the bedroom door and steps inside.
“What are you hoping to find?” I ask, watching with intense curiosity. I’m cautious when I take a step into the hallway and follow Moreno into Zeke’s bedroom.
There’s glass shattered on the floor beside the window. It’s clear the intruder entered from Zeke’s bedroom, which fits the story that Nova gave Dante and her father.
I never expected Nova or Harper were lying.
Had that been Moreno’s concern?
Are the girls keeping something else from us?
“Not sure yet,” Moreno says as he examines the windowsill and the broken glass. “Do you have a tape measure around here?”
“Yeah, I think I can find one for you.” I hurry out of Zeke’s bedroom, careful through the hallway and retrieve a tape measure, handing it to Moreno. Measuring the window, he jots down the information into his phone.
“I’ve got some plastic in the trunk we can use to keep the kid’s room dry and tape it up to the wall for tonight. I’ll get the replacement window tomorrow and have a crew come out and install it. In the meantime, we need to deal with other matters.”
The dead body.
Moreno is careful with his wording and for good reason. While I don’t think anyone is listening to us, the window is open. No reason to alert the authorities, especially with them snooping around.
Two
Harper
How am I supposed to wash the blood away when the police are right outside? What if they bust into the bathroom and I’m naked?
I turn the bathroom fan on and the shower, but I don’t step under the spray.
Standing in front of the mirror, I run the sink, doing my best to wipe the remnants of crimson from my hands and fingernails.
My reflection is stark in contrast to how I usually look, the blood splattered on my clothes, staining everything.
There’s movement and noise. I no longer hear Zeke crying, which gives me a little relief.
He could have died today.
Guilt ebbs at me, the shock that I could have shot him.
But I didn’t.
I’d practically pressed the barrel to the intruder’s chest before pulling the trigger, to ensure my son wouldn’t get hurt.
However, the endless possibilities rattle through my brain. I shiver, the heat from the bathroom oppressive and fogging the mirror, but I feel ice cold.