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"How do you know you don't?" I shot back at him. Playing the role of the devil's advocate comes easy to me. |
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Madden signed and turned his back on the old Chevy. "Come on over here, Researcher." |
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I followed him to the edge of the blacktop, stepped over the elevated yellow tape barrier and followed him out on the craggy strip jutting out into the shallows. He kept talking along the way, but the wind carried away his words. He threw open the car door, and my stomach did a somersault. For a moment I had to close my eyes. |
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The boy probably wasn't much more than 18 years old, and the girl looked as though she could be a year or two younger. What was left of the lad was slumped in the far corner of the front seat. The remains of the young woman were unceremoniously sprawled, arms and legs akimbo on the back seat. Each of them rested in crimson black pools of their own congealed blood. My stomach did another flip-flop and yawed back and forth a couple of times. I gulped, trying to get my equalibrium. The "holy shit" just slipped out, but it was appropriate. Someone or something had worked them over with a knife. |
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I looked up at Madden. His face was bone white. "I've never seen anything like it," I muttered. |
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