70“Tasered.” Tom gestured toward the body lying on the grass. “I didn’t kill him.”
Pat and I were still in the bedroom, standing at the open French doors.
By the time we’d reached the ground floor, Tom had called an all-clear.
I’d crossed the room swiftly, expecting to find a dead man in my back yard.
Instead, I saw the sleek black Taser resting on the concrete step.
From the Taser, insulated wires led ten feet across the lawn to a slender male body.
The body was curved like a banana. The man had his back to me. He wore a black T-shirt with black jeans.
A pistol butt sprouted from the center of the jeans waistband.
I spied the silvery pencil shape of an automatic hole punch on the grass beside his butt. A useful lightweight tool for carpenters, the spring-released punch can also sh
