Chapter 65

Mark followed him into the house and sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands as he processed the evening’s final call.

It was one of the kids who had called, saying their parents were fighting and it sounded really scary. Mark had sped to get there in time, because his hunch had told him this time would be different. He’d been right, of course, but for once he would’ve given anything to have been wrong.

He’d gotten to the house and the biggest of the kids had come to open the door as soon as he was out of the cruiser. He’d seen the blood on the girl’s arm, and it had made sense as soon as he got inside with his weapon drawn and firmly pressed against his thigh, just in case.

Mrs. Young had been sitting on the couch with the children. She’d looked relieved and defeated at the same time.

“Here, drink that.” Francis put a mug on the table.

Mark took it and blew into the steaming cocoa.