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Description
Prologue

It was winter, the ground covered in think, white snow. That was how it had always been in Missouri during that season; heavy weather and frigid temperatures when the cold was supposed to be at a minimal. Tonight, however, was different. Though the wind speed had increased, there was an unpleasant reason for the cold that had little to do with the air.

Sirens wailed over the howling of the wind as the police cars came down the hill. They parked on the grass, some feet from the large house where the distress call had come from.

A woman stood gazing at the flashing lights from in front of the garage where she leaned; it was sturdy enough to support her thin, trembling body. She raked her hands through her brown hair, her eyes lowered as she heard someone coming toward her.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Warren? I'm Detective Boyd and I need to ask you some questions about the situation. Will you take a walk with me?"

Evelyn Warren raised her tear-streaked, pale face to look into a pair of green eyes, and shook her head.

"No." Her voice was hollow. "No, I won't do that. I won't leave him. He'll get cold."

Lucas Boyd smiled grimly. He did not have the heart to tell her that her concern for her own child's wellbeing would not change what had happened.

"He'll be all right, I assure you."

"You won't hurt him, will you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Lucas," she said softly as she stared at the man in front of her. "I miss you."

"Sorry?" He kept his eyes on her face.

"You have the same name as my husband," she said.

"And where is he?"

"He doesn't live here anymore," she said calmly as she held the door open for him. "It's just me and Devin."

Lucas hadn't realized how far they walked until he noticed what she was doing. He was doing some note taking in his head as she spoke so he wasn't paying much attention.

"I thought you had a daughter?" Lucas asked.

Evelyn let the door slam as she came close to him.

"We did. She was a few months younger than Devin."

"Was?"

"She died when she was four," Mrs. Warren said, her blue eyes slightly glassy as they were caught under the lamp near the garage.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said quietly. "Is there anything would want to tell me about why Devin would -"

"Devin didn't kill himself." Her eyes narrowed. "He was murdered."

Detective Boyd stared at her. She obviously wasn't thinking clearly. "You called the station. You said that he had slit his wrists. You were frantic."

"I said no such thing!" Evelyn spat. Strangely her eyes softened as she asked, "Would you like to see my boy?"

Lucas' insides quivered at the woman's tone and demeanor as he followed her into the house.

Beyond the large yard was an even larger foyer. As the metal door slammed shut behind him, Lucas jumped. He turned and stepped further into the Warren home, almost dreading where he would find the child's body.

"Be careful where you walk," Evelyn said, "we're still unpacking."

"Maybe I should get someone else to take a look at your son." He didn't want to say the next thing that came to mind.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I want you to look at your son yourself, Luke. He misses you. You're neglecting him."

"Mrs. Warren," Lucas began, "My name is Lucas, but I am not the estranged husband you are looking for. I'm a police officer here to help you."

"Help?" Evelyn said, her voice suggesting fear. "Help with what? Who are you?" She backed up a few steps.

For good measure, Lucas stepped away from her.

"You will not hurt my baby," she breathed, her lip curling nastily. She had somehow managed to convince herself that this man – this authority figure – was going to bring harm to her child.

"I cannot hurt what's already dead," Lucas said before he could stop himself.

As he ascended the staircase without her consent, he was halfway when he heard something behind him. His heart sped up as he registered what the noise was.

"You won't go any further," the woman at the base of the stairs hissed.

Lucas lifted his hands, slowly, and he turned.

"I will shoot you if you don't get down here," Evelyn said fiercely, leveling the handgun with his chest.

"It's going to be all right," Lucas explained as he reached the final step. "Mrs. Warren, give me the gun and we'll forget any of this happened."

"No!" she screamed, the gun still trembling in her hand. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

"I'm a goddamned cop!" Lucas shouted back. Her cruel, deranged expression did not change. "Put away the fucking gun and I'll leave after I check on your son."

"My son is dead!" Evelyn cried, her blue eyes dark and brimming with tears. "He didn't mean to do it."

"Who?" Lucas asked softly.

"My husband."

"Evelyn, where is he?"

"Devin was always getting into trouble and he was being reckless, so Luke wanted to teach him a lesson."

"So he killed his own son?" Lucas felt sick.

"He made it look like a suicide," Evelyn said. "He told me to call the cops and tell them that."

"Where is he?"

"You won't find him." She smiled slowly. "I've taken care of it. Now we can all be together." The barrel of the gun was cool against her jaw, and as she stared at him, her voice was soft. "Devin is upstairs. Bring him down so he can be with me."

Every part of Lucas turned cold as he heard the gun go off. He had looked away as he started up the stairs again, this time finally reaching the top. It didn't take long to find out where room belonged to Devin.

"Just follow the blood trail," he said to himself.

As he moved closer and touched the handle, something stopped him. Something made him turn and walk back down to the mother, where he took the gun, put it to his temple, and pulled the trigger.

Description
Prologue

It was winter, the ground covered in think, white snow. That was how it had always been in Missouri during that season; heavy weather and frigid temperatures when the cold was supposed to be at a minimal. Tonight, however, was different. Though the wind speed had increased, there was an unpleasant reason for the cold that had little to do with the air.

Sirens wailed over the howling of the wind as the police cars came down the hill. They parked on the grass, some feet from the large house where the distress call had come from.

A woman stood gazing at the flashing lights from in front of the garage where she leaned; it was sturdy enough to support her thin, trembling body. She raked her hands through her brown hair, her eyes lowered as she heard someone coming toward her.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Warren? I'm Detective Boyd and I need to ask you some questions about the situation. Will you take a walk with me?"

Evelyn Warren raised her tear-streaked, pale face to look into a pair of green eyes, and shook her head.

"No." Her voice was hollow. "No, I won't do that. I won't leave him. He'll get cold."

Lucas Boyd smiled grimly. He did not have the heart to tell her that her concern for her own child's wellbeing would not change what had happened.

"He'll be all right, I assure you."

"You won't hurt him, will you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Lucas," she said softly as she stared at the man in front of her. "I miss you."

"Sorry?" He kept his eyes on her face.

"You have the same name as my husband," she said.

"And where is he?"

"He doesn't live here anymore," she said calmly as she held the door open for him. "It's just me and Devin."

Lucas hadn't realized how far they walked until he noticed what she was doing. He was doing some note taking in his head as she spoke so he wasn't paying much attention.

"I thought you had a daughter?" Lucas asked.

Evelyn let the door slam as she came close to him.

"We did. She was a few months younger than Devin."

"Was?"

"She died when she was four," Mrs. Warren said, her blue eyes slightly glassy as they were caught under the lamp near the garage.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said quietly. "Is there anything would want to tell me about why Devin would -"

"Devin didn't kill himself." Her eyes narrowed. "He was murdered."

Detective Boyd stared at her. She obviously wasn't thinking clearly. "You called the station. You said that he had slit his wrists. You were frantic."

"I said no such thing!" Evelyn spat. Strangely her eyes softened as she asked, "Would you like to see my boy?"

Lucas' insides quivered at the woman's tone and demeanor as he followed her into the house.

Beyond the large yard was an even larger foyer. As the metal door slammed shut behind him, Lucas jumped. He turned and stepped further into the Warren home, almost dreading where he would find the child's body.

"Be careful where you walk," Evelyn said, "we're still unpacking."

"Maybe I should get someone else to take a look at your son." He didn't want to say the next thing that came to mind.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I want you to look at your son yourself, Luke. He misses you. You're neglecting him."

"Mrs. Warren," Lucas began, "My name is Lucas, but I am not the estranged husband you are looking for. I'm a police officer here to help you."

"Help?" Evelyn said, her voice suggesting fear. "Help with what? Who are you?" She backed up a few steps.

For good measure, Lucas stepped away from her.

"You will not hurt my baby," she breathed, her lip curling nastily. She had somehow managed to convince herself that this man – this authority figure – was going to bring harm to her child.

"I cannot hurt what's already dead," Lucas said before he could stop himself.

As he ascended the staircase without her consent, he was halfway when he heard something behind him. His heart sped up as he registered what the noise was.

"You won't go any further," the woman at the base of the stairs hissed.

Lucas lifted his hands, slowly, and he turned.

"I will shoot you if you don't get down here," Evelyn said fiercely, leveling the handgun with his chest.

"It's going to be all right," Lucas explained as he reached the final step. "Mrs. Warren, give me the gun and we'll forget any of this happened."

"No!" she screamed, the gun still trembling in her hand. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

"I'm a goddamned cop!" Lucas shouted back. Her cruel, deranged expression did not change. "Put away the fucking gun and I'll leave after I check on your son."

"My son is dead!" Evelyn cried, her blue eyes dark and brimming with tears. "He didn't mean to do it."

"Who?" Lucas asked softly.

"My husband."

"Evelyn, where is he?"

"Devin was always getting into trouble and he was being reckless, so Luke wanted to teach him a lesson."

"So he killed his own son?" Lucas felt sick.

"He made it look like a suicide," Evelyn said. "He told me to call the cops and tell them that."

"Where is he?"

"You won't find him." She smiled slowly. "I've taken care of it. Now we can all be together." The barrel of the gun was cool against her jaw, and as she stared at him, her voice was soft. "Devin is upstairs. Bring him down so he can be with me."

Every part of Lucas turned cold as he heard the gun go off. He had looked away as he started up the stairs again, this time finally reaching the top. It didn't take long to find out where room belonged to Devin.

"Just follow the blood trail," he said to himself.

As he moved closer and touched the handle, something stopped him. Something made him turn and walk back down to the mother, where he took the gun, put it to his temple, and pulled the trigger.