Blood, Ash, And Bone
“I squinted into gray light—the bedroom was still, but not silent. In the next room, I could hear the soft tap-tap-tap of keystrokes, the dry-leaf rustle of paper.I dragged on my robe and went in. Trey sat at his desk in his white shirt and black slacks, his jacket on the back of the chair.I yawned. “What are you doing?”“Inputting the final data.”“What data?”He handed me a piece of paper without looking up from the computer. It was the crime scene report from the shooting.“How’d you get your han...ds on this?” I said.“Sergeant Underwood sent it.”“Who’s…Oh yeah. Kendrick.”He nodded. The brotherhood code. Once a cop, always a cop, always privy to cop information. I examined the report. The preliminary findings were not surprising—gunshot wound to the head—but seeing the diagrams of Winston’s sprawled body, the black and white specificity of his murder, was sobering.I handed the report back. “When did you get up?”“Five-thirty.”His desk was its usual patchwork of diagrams and graphs.MoreLess
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