The Fourth Sin, Saturday Afternoon
Jarod was watching the video files. They'd finally decrypted sometime around three a.m., and he'd been watching them ever since.
Gun shots, a low voice yelling "get her out of the elevator," then a young Parker, screaming and flailing as she was pulled into the room by a trio of burly Sweepers.
Then, a shot of someone firing a gun at Parker's mother, the back of the elevator obvious. He zoomed in, but all he saw was the gun. No fingerprints, no profile.
And, finally, a home movie, of Parker's mother, looking so much like Parker did now, smiling and waving at the camera, arm around a tall man who wasn't Mr. Parker. They were in the woods outside some kind of white building that looked like home. But whose?
How was he going to tell Parker? Her mother hadn't committed suicide at all. It had been murder.
Gun shots, a low voice yelling "get her out of the elevator," then a young Parker, screaming and flailing as she was pulled into the room by a trio of burly Sweepers.
Then, a shot of someone firing a gun at Parker's mother, the back of the elevator obvious. He zoomed in, but all he saw was the gun. No fingerprints, no profile.
And, finally, a home movie, of Parker's mother, looking so much like Parker did now, smiling and waving at the camera, arm around a tall man who wasn't Mr. Parker. They were in the woods outside some kind of white building that looked like home. But whose?
How was he going to tell Parker? Her mother hadn't committed suicide at all. It had been murder.