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Dead body? Got one of those.
Suspect? Yep.
Weapon? In the kitchen sink.
Means, motive, opportunity, and the vic’s blood on the accused’s hands? Confirmed.
William Alves was a 25-year-old married man and father of two, and while he was dozing in his favorite recliner, sipping a beer between commercial breaks, and his wife and daughters slept in the next room, a killer helped themselves to the Alves’ home and ended a life.
His case should be open and close.
But it all seems a little too obvious.
Too easy.
And nothing in my field of work is easy.
My name is Minka Mayet, and I’m the chief medical examiner in Copeland City.
Fortunately for me, I often land the same cases as my homicide detective husband.
I enjoy working with him.
I enjoy arguing with him more.
But what happens when we’re running a case, and yet, we come to wildly differing conclusions as to who William’s killer is?
Could this be a vigilante murder? Or is something far more sinister going on?
