CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The crime scene was at a private residence in Winchester. When she arrived, she saw that O’Malley hadn’t been kidding; they were doing everything they could to keep the murder under wraps. O’Malley’s car was parked in the driveway. There were houses on both sides of the residence, as well as across the street. But no one seemed to be looking on, apparently having left for work or holed up inside and totally unaware.
A single police car was parked along the curb. Avery parked behind the police car and hurried up the nicely kept lawn. O’Malley met her at the front door, his face tight and grim.
“How’s Ramirez?” he asked.
“He’s doing very well,” she said. “And the fact that you’re leading with small talk makes me think things are bad inside.”
“You’d be correct,” he said,
