Page 91 of Chasing Honor

“Miss,” he greeted and stopped in front of us. “The EMTs would like to check you over.”

“Not yet. I’m fine.” Her death grip around my neck tightened.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. They can wait.”

“He . . . he . . . killed his mother. She was my patient. He just shot her right in her bed. In front of me,” she cried. “Why would he do that?”

Jesus.

Lorenz lowered himself to a kneeling position in front of us.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tires screeching into the lot had Lorenz standing and stepping in front of me, offering us protection if need be. The car had barely stopped when the door flew open and a man held up a shield and ran toward the crime scene tape.

“Sergeant Hudson. 7-2-7,” he announced and ducked under the tape. “Where’s my daughter?”

Lauren’s body started to shake in relief as her father neared.

“Here,” Lorenz hollered and waved the man to our location.

“Christ almighty.” Sergeant Hudson stopped in front of me. I stood and offered the man his crying daughter. He happily transferred Lauren into his embrace and took my place on the bench.

Lorenz and I started to walk away to give the two of them privacy when his booming voice stopped me.

“Is the fucker dead?”

“Yes,” Lorenz answered.

“Thank you,” Hudson gruff voice cracked as he spoke.

“Just doing our job,” I told him.

I took a moment to soak in the view of father and daughter. It didn’t matter how old your children were, you always wanted to protect them. And when you couldn’t, it must be something akin to torture. I would do anything to keep Carson safe. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Steve Hudson had felt when he’d learned his daughter had been held at gun point. Nor the relief he’d experienced when he found out she was safe.

“Thank you all the same.”

We left them, and, as we were walking away, Lorenz clapped me on the shoulder.

“You’re such a softie.” He chuckled, poking me in the ribs.

“Fuck you,” I replied with no heat.

“Let’s wrap this shit up, I’m starving.”

“You’re the only person I know that can eat five minutes after seeing a dead body.”

* * *

Lorenz was driving and telling me a story about his sons taking apart their brand-new, two-hundred-dollar Xbox because he’d been bitching to them that kids these days didn’t know how stuff worked. He’d also told them that back in the day, boys played outside and got dirty. They also took shit apart and knew how to fix something when it broke. That conversation had led to the boys dismantling a perfectly good video game console to make their father happy.

“Two hundred fucking dollars down the drain. Maria thought that shit was funny because she doesn’t want them playing on it anyway. I told them I wasn’t buying a new one. If they wanted to use it, they’d better fix it.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, and seeing my father’s name on the screen I answered.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, still laughing at Lorenz’s story.

“Get home. Now,” my father thundered.