Taking out his cell phone, he activated the flashlight like McSwain had done the night before, its powerful beam creating shapes from tall lamps and a hanging chandelier over a round dining table. It gave him a better view of the room before him, and what he saw was a room in tatters.
“s**t,” he said.
Think.
Get out.
Think.
Check the other rooms.
Think.
Where the hell was Angela?
That last thought was what propelled him further into the house, he coming to the frame which he remembered led to the bedroom. That palace of blue walls and pink sheets, slinky peignoirs, the image beckoned his body onward, fingers feeling for a light switch. Damn being discovered, he had to see with his own wide, seeing eyes the scope of the damage. Hopefully just the house had seen better days and not i
