JOE PUT HIS CAR IN park and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Hey, Detective. You okay? You don’t look so good, sir,” Officer Jenkins said with a worried face.
“I’m all right, son, just tired. What have we got?”
“Estella Dominguez, nineteen, student at College of St. Thomas More not far from here. Her brother Carlo came to pick her up for their shift at Waffle House. When she didn’t answer the door, he let himself in and found her.”
A car door closing behind them turned out to be Dr. Broder, the coroner.
“Gentlemen,” he said as he strolled up to meet them.
“Good timing, Doc, I just got here myself. Shall we?”
“After you, Joe.”
They walked up the steps of the old, tiny A-frame and past the living room, where Joe presumed the young man sitting pale-faced on the couch was Estella’s brot
