Page 14 of Property of Player

“The first thing I need to know is why you waited to call it in? Why did you drive all the way over here before calling 911?” Ronnie asks.

“I was scared. In shock, I guess.

“Are you having money problems?” Ronnie asks, getting straight to the point.

“What? No. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Your father had a grand in cash on him. He told me he won at the casino last night. The money is nowhere to be found,” my father says.

“You found him, Kevin. You also left the scene before calling it in. Did you take the money?” the sheriff asks.

“Fuck no. I didn’t even know he had any money. Whoever killed him must have taken it.”

“Kevin, I’m gonna ask you straight up, because we need to know the truth here. Did you kill your father?”

“No. I swear. I’d never hurt my father. He was my hero. I loved him.”

I study his facial expressions and body language. He seems upset in a way that’s not fake. I believe what he’s saying.

Sheriff Edwards gets a call and steps aside to take it in murmured voices. When he returns, he meets Kevin’s eyes and then my father’s.

“That was the medical examiner. It wasn’t a gunshot that killed him. Jimmy had massive head trauma from a blunt instrument.”

Kevin surges to his feet. “You mean someone beat him to death?”

“Looks that way. Know anybody who’d do that to him?”

“No. Everyone loved my father.”

“Well, not everyone. Someone wanted him dead.”

“You think it was a robbery? For the money you talked about?” Kevin asks.

Ronnie connects eyes with my father. “Don’t know. Seems like overkill if this was just about theft. They could have stopped at one blow; this guy kept going.”

“It seems like it was personal. Like the person knew your father. You don’t kill a random stranger with that amount of viciousness,” Gage says.

“Guess you’d know about that,” Kevin snipes.

I take a step forward, not liking how this kid is talking to my father, but Gage lifts his hand and shakes his head. I know he’s cutting him slack, but if it were up to me, I’d punch his lights out.

“I’m returning to the crime scene,” Sheriff Edwards says. “Gotta look for the murder weapon, now that we know it wasn’t a gunshot.”

“Mind if we come with?” my father asks.

“Suit yourself.

We return to the scene. The chief tells the officers to fan out and search the yard for something that could be used as a weapon to bash the victim’s head.

He leads us into the house, lifting the yellow tape for us to slip under.

A CSI tech points out a blood smear on the bedroom door frame. “That’s a blood transfer stain. Probably the killer on his way out.”

We take in the bloody scene. The bedroom is where they found him, apparently, since that’s where Ronnie leads us. The mattress is covered in blood.

Ronnie gestures to it. “He was face down diagonally. Probably was standing when the first blow hit him.”

Looking up, I see blood spatter on the ceiling. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.