The Defendant Read Free

low for Chase to hear.
    A flash of light snagged Chase’s attention. He glanced around and caught sight of the police photographer. The man snapped off another shot of the crime scene and then changed his position. Chase’s boss stood behind the photographer. Chase sidled up to him.
    “What happened, Riley?”
    Riley turned away from the scene of carnage and acknowledged him. “Chase, thanks for coming. It’s a messy one. There’s a young kid involved. I’ve called in Forensics. They’re on their way over from Grafton. They’ll be here in a couple of hours. We’re going to need all the help we can get.” He offered a half-hearted smile. “Lucky we didn’t have a late one last night or we’d both be in a world of pain.”
    Chase pressed his lips together and nodded. No need to tell his boss he’d been awake for most of the night—not when the woman who’d kept him sleepless was his boss’s sister. Forcing his thoughts away from Josie Munro, Chase focused on the scene before him. “So, what do we have? A domestic?”
    Riley grimaced. “I wish.”
    “Who is he, then?”
    “The driver’s license we recovered from the wallet in the victim’s back pocket says it’s Neil Whitcomb. We ran him through the database. He got out of Long Bay late yesterday afternoon. He must have hightailed it straight out of Sydney and headed north.”
    Chase’s gaze shifted to the woman who still huddled in the corner, her blue eyes wide with shock. Her hair was a soft brown color that now lay tangled around her face. She looked like she was in her late thirties. Shivering and dazed, she barely resembled the pretty, young woman he’d seen in the wedding photo down the hall. His gaze returned to his boss and he pitched his voice low. “Who is she?”
    “Kelly Logan. Thirty-seven years old. Moved north from Melbourne a few months ago.”
    “Is she the shooter?”
    Riley’s lips tightened and his expression turned grim. “No, that would be Daniel Logan, her twelve-year-old son.”
    Chase reared back in surprise. “Fuck.”
    “Yep.”
    The tragedy that had unfolded in the house became more and more apparent. Chase ran a hand through his hair. Cold dread weighed heavily in his gut. What had started out bad had just become a whole lot worse. Nothing about this night was going to end well.
    “Where’s the boy?” he asked.
    “I told Jake to take him out of here. I think they’re waiting in the kitchen.”

CHAPTER THREE

    The boy’s tousled head glinted like gold under the soft lighting in the kitchen. The resemblance to his mother was plain to see. Dark shadows haunted his eyes, but Chase guessed sleep was the last thing on the boy’s mind. He sat in a worn pine chair near the kitchen table and stared at the cracked linoleum floor, his body as still as if he’d been nailed to the spot.
    Chase approached him quietly, his heart heavy. He caught the eye of Jake Simons, the constable who had removed the boy from the scene and gave the officer a brief nod of acknowledgement. Hunkering low, he brought himself down to eye level with the boy.
    “Hey, buddy. I’m Chase, one of the detectives from Watervale. What’s your name?” The boy continued to stare at the floor. Chase tried again.
    “I’ve just come from your mom’s bedroom. Something happened here tonight, buddy. I really need you to tell me about it.”
    Still, the boy remained silent and immobile. Chase glanced up at Jake, who shrugged. He swallowed a sigh. He hated to manipulate the boy’s emotions, but he was left with no choice.
    “Listen, buddy, if you don’t talk to me, I’m going to have to go back in and question your mom. She’s pretty upset in there. You don’t want me to upset her any further, do you?”
    The needling had its desired effect. The boy’s head snapped up, his eyes fierce. “ No! ” Just as quickly, his head dropped back down until his chin almost touched his chest. He rocked back and forth on his chair. Fat tears slid down his