Relative Malice (The Detective Kendall Halsrud Series - Book 1)
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US Midwest- Chicago, Great Lakes)Transcript
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Friday, 11:45 p.m. Wakened by strange noises, 10 month old Philly Glosson raised her head of blonde curls. She rolled to a sitting position in her crib and wrinkled, her small face, preparing for ah, howl. Distracted by sounds, she didn't understand. The child pulled herself over to the railing of the crib and slid easily to the floor, as she done many times before, to the dismay of her anxious mother crawling to a playhouse in the corner of the room, she took refuge inside its canvas walls and curled up with her favorite pink blanket, pressed against her cheek. Less than an hour from the first sounds of intrusion, that blouson home was silent. A bitter draft of late November air from an open patio door chilled the rooms congealing pools of blood on the polished wood floors. The lifeless bodies of the family, Chelsea and Marc Clawson, their 17 year old daughter, Sienna, and three year old son Evan lay like rag dolls tossed aside by a neglectful child. Their lifeless forms would remain in place, limbs stiffening souls drifting to another plane of existence as their bodies awaited discovery, the crib and the Playhouse were empty Saturday. 10 a.m. detectives Hank White House in Kendall halls, Rude moved through the McCobb scene in the kitchen of the Glosson house, where the bodies oven adult, male and female, lay on the floor, shot in the head White House, unpeeled a foil wrapped candy and shoved it into his mouth, as he was prone to do when stressed. Never mind the Gore, a crime scene capable of upsetting even the most seasoned of law enforcement officer CSU had already marked an area where one of the first responders had lost his breakfast. Kendall moved away from her partner. She'd seen death many times during her career in law enforcement, but never anything like this. With a population of 100,000 0 Claire Wisconsin had its share of murders, although most of them tended to be drug related or the result of domestic disturbances. Her stomach tolerated the scene, but the extent of the violence made Kendall want to cry out in anger. She left the carnage in the kitchen to look over the family photos adorning a wall of the family room that held the bodies of the two gloves and Children. Sienna and Evan. The family looked happy in the pictures, smiling and loving Mark Lawson's long arms embracing his attractive wife. He'd been a tall man with angular features, brown eyes and a smile so warm it emanated out from the silver frame. In another shot, surrounded by football players, the teenage daughter posed wearing a red and white cheerleader outfit. A beautiful girl with hair, a cascade of silky auburn trusses, the image of a perfect teenage princess, Sienna Glosson looked like the adored and popular kind of girl that Kendall, with her tall, rangy body and dull brown hair, had envied. In high school, Kendall took a deep breath and turned back to the room, ready to examine the visage of death spread out before her. C N L. A. On the ginger brown carpet, her lovely hair stringy with gore, her penguin trimmed flannel pants lying next to her naked lower body. A white lacy bra dangling from her shoulders had been sliced open at the front, has had the oversized T shirt she had been wearing. Brown eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling. Her gammon features frozen in a mask of terror, a bullet hole on the left side of her forehead. CNN's death, appearing to have been accompanied by sexual torture, had to be the worst of the four. Across the room, her younger brother had been shot neatly in the forehead. Like the bodies of the parents. This is the worst break in I've ever seen. Do Better didn't happen six blocks over and Chip Woz territory. Kendall wouldn't admit to her partner. She felt exhilarated to be part of an investigation of such magnitude. The street, blocked off after the discovery, would soon fill with official vehicles from all branches of law enforcement. Media vans would fight their way in reporters demanding a statement. A rookie detective of 10 months, Kendall's excitement overrode her horror. She nodded toward the fireplace, where a portrait of Chelsea Clawson smiled charmingly down on them, her glossy red hair fluffed like a fallen halo around her soft ivory complexion. Don't you think it strange that the daughter was raped and not the mother? Mrs. Glosson was an attractive woman