Kent was wearing a pair of chinos with a green polo shirt and, beneath the table, Parker saw that his feet were clad in sneakers.
Kent’s wife, Mandy, was also in her late-thirties. She was wearing a dark green pantsuit, business attire, along with a touch of make-up and shoes with two-inch heels. Mandy Kent was a good-looking woman, short, with dark hair and green eyes, although she seemed to be slightly overweight.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kent, my name is Detective Parker.”
After introducing himself, Parker grew quiet to see if either of them would speak, but they just stared at him.
He once introduced himself to a so-called innocent bystander and the man babbled at him non-stop for ten minutes, ten minutes in which he described how he had killed the victim and why.
Ever since that day, Parker paused for a moment after introducing himself. You never knew when lightning would strike twice.
He took out his notebook and sat down, but as he went to open his mouth again, his phone rang. When he looked at the caller ID, he saw that it was his boss, the chief of police calling.
“Excuse me,” Parker said, and then he stepped back out of the room and into a short hallway. “What’s up, Gabe?”
The voice on the other end of the line sounded more like a college professor than a cop, and belonged to Chief of Police Gabe Howard.
“Rick, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I wanted to let you know that you’ll be joined there soon by Detective Knight.”
“Joanna Knight? But I thought she didn’t start until Monday?”
“That was the plan, but she heard about the murder and volunteered to start early.”
“She sounds eager.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It can be, and given her reputation I’d say that it was. How soon can I expect her?”
“Any minute I would guess.”
“Fine,”
“Treat her well, and, let me know how she does.”
“I’ll do both, Gabe.”
“Right, talk to you later.”
Parker put his phone away and walked back out towards the body. When he got there, he saw that Joanna Knight had already arrived and was crouched down and studying Tiffany Grace’s body.
Parker watched her for a moment, taking her in. He had met her briefly on the day she was first interviewed and liked what he saw. Knight’s reputation was as good as his own and, like himself, she had worked homicide before.
Knight had been a cop in Trenton for twelve years and a homicide detective for five of those. Joanna Knight was a light-skinned black woman, tall, with dark-brown hair that framed a beautiful face. She looked her age, thirty-six, and her brown eyes held flecks of green and gold in them that only added to her good looks.
Parker smiled. There was worse duty than being partnered with a beautiful woman, and his last partner had been a washed-up male cop who smoked and smelled of garlic.
Knight stood, and as she did so, she spotted Parker and nodded.
Parker called to her.
“How’s it going, Partner?”
Knight grinned. “I’m good, Detective, how about you?”
Parker walked up to her and offered his hand.
“It’s Rick, and I hope I can call you Joanna?”
“Actually, my friends call me Jo, Rick,”
“Then Jo it is, so, what’s your take so far?”
Knight sighed.
“My first thought is that this child was too young to die, but my second thought is that it was obviously a murder, although there’s no murder weapon present.”
“Oh, we have the murder weapon. It was found lying in the kitchen sink.”
“You’re kidding, what is it?”
“A letter opener, long, thin, and sharp, with a wooden handle,”
Knight nodded.
“The length would explain the punctured heart, but make my day and tell me there were prints found on it.”
“Sorry Partner, no prints, it looks like someone ran hot water over it after they tossed it in the sink, but the coroner is certain it’s what killed her.”
“Have you done any interviews yet?”
“No, once I heard you were coming I decided to wait.”
Knight
Kent’s wife, Mandy, was also in her late-thirties. She was wearing a dark green pantsuit, business attire, along with a touch of make-up and shoes with two-inch heels. Mandy Kent was a good-looking woman, short, with dark hair and green eyes, although she seemed to be slightly overweight.
“Mr. and Mrs. Kent, my name is Detective Parker.”
After introducing himself, Parker grew quiet to see if either of them would speak, but they just stared at him.
He once introduced himself to a so-called innocent bystander and the man babbled at him non-stop for ten minutes, ten minutes in which he described how he had killed the victim and why.
Ever since that day, Parker paused for a moment after introducing himself. You never knew when lightning would strike twice.
He took out his notebook and sat down, but as he went to open his mouth again, his phone rang. When he looked at the caller ID, he saw that it was his boss, the chief of police calling.
“Excuse me,” Parker said, and then he stepped back out of the room and into a short hallway. “What’s up, Gabe?”
The voice on the other end of the line sounded more like a college professor than a cop, and belonged to Chief of Police Gabe Howard.
“Rick, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I wanted to let you know that you’ll be joined there soon by Detective Knight.”
“Joanna Knight? But I thought she didn’t start until Monday?”
“That was the plan, but she heard about the murder and volunteered to start early.”
“She sounds eager.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It can be, and given her reputation I’d say that it was. How soon can I expect her?”
“Any minute I would guess.”
“Fine,”
“Treat her well, and, let me know how she does.”
“I’ll do both, Gabe.”
“Right, talk to you later.”
Parker put his phone away and walked back out towards the body. When he got there, he saw that Joanna Knight had already arrived and was crouched down and studying Tiffany Grace’s body.
Parker watched her for a moment, taking her in. He had met her briefly on the day she was first interviewed and liked what he saw. Knight’s reputation was as good as his own and, like himself, she had worked homicide before.
Knight had been a cop in Trenton for twelve years and a homicide detective for five of those. Joanna Knight was a light-skinned black woman, tall, with dark-brown hair that framed a beautiful face. She looked her age, thirty-six, and her brown eyes held flecks of green and gold in them that only added to her good looks.
Parker smiled. There was worse duty than being partnered with a beautiful woman, and his last partner had been a washed-up male cop who smoked and smelled of garlic.
Knight stood, and as she did so, she spotted Parker and nodded.
Parker called to her.
“How’s it going, Partner?”
Knight grinned. “I’m good, Detective, how about you?”
Parker walked up to her and offered his hand.
“It’s Rick, and I hope I can call you Joanna?”
“Actually, my friends call me Jo, Rick,”
“Then Jo it is, so, what’s your take so far?”
Knight sighed.
“My first thought is that this child was too young to die, but my second thought is that it was obviously a murder, although there’s no murder weapon present.”
“Oh, we have the murder weapon. It was found lying in the kitchen sink.”
“You’re kidding, what is it?”
“A letter opener, long, thin, and sharp, with a wooden handle,”
Knight nodded.
“The length would explain the punctured heart, but make my day and tell me there were prints found on it.”
“Sorry Partner, no prints, it looks like someone ran hot water over it after they tossed it in the sink, but the coroner is certain it’s what killed her.”
“Have you done any interviews yet?”
“No, once I heard you were coming I decided to wait.”
Knight
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