Chapter 13

“What’s the victim’s name?”

“Jeff. Jeff Mills.” Then the officer’s words sank in. “Victim?”

“According to the EMTs, someone hit the back of his head with something heavy enough to break his skull. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

“He was murdered?” Spence looked at him in horror.

“So it seems, sir. If you’ll wait over there—” He pointed to one of the lounge chairs between the house and the garage. “A detective, the ME, and crime scene people will be here soon.”

“Murdered?” Spence whispered. “Who would want to kill him? He didn’t have an enemy in the world.”

Spence went to the chair, collapsing on it, and then burying his face his hands.

“Mr. Harden?”

Spence looked up. His cheeks felt damp and he realized he’d been crying. Two people stood in front of him.

“I’m Detective Dean,” the woman said. “This is my partner, Detective Evans. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course.” Spence wiped his hand over his face to dry it.