Live to Tell Read Online Free PDF Page A

first.”
    “Why the boy?”
    “Single mortal wound. Look at the bed.”
    D.D. belatedly realized the purple comforter wasn’t really purple. It used to be a dark pink, the original color now skewed by another sizable pool of blood, with a matching spray pattern arcing across the opposite wall.
    “The kids knew,” Alex said, more softly now, less academic. “No closets in the room. So they huddled in the corner. Brother and sister together, taking a last stand. The subject came in. He must’ve been a sight by then. Covered in back spray from hammering down the first death blow, let alone the second. Kids stood shoulder to shoulder, next to the bed.
    “Boy broke first, that’s my guess,” Alex continued. “Tried to get around the subject by springing up onto the bed. Didn’t work. Subject sliced open the kid’s throat as the boy attempted to bolt past. Game over. Girl’s probably screaming by then. But she doesn’t freeze, which is interesting. Most people facing such a scene …”
    Alex’s voice faded, then he cleared his throat, continued on: “The girl runs. Takes advantage of her own brother’s death to sprint for the front door. Of all of them, she’s the only one who gets a chance. He wounds her. Right here.” Alex pointed with his pencil to a round smeared spot. “Maybe the subject was aiming for her neck, but got her shoulder instead. The blow knocked her off balance, hence smudge here and smudge there, probably made by her feet, but she keeps on trucking, God bless her.
    “Gets halfway down that hallway, running the race of her life. And then—”
    “He catches her,” D.D. fills in, then pauses. “But doesn’t kill her? Drags her away?”
    Alex shrugged. “Who knows? She’s the last one left and he has her incapacitated. Maybe he realized he didn’t have to rush. Or maybe he just wanted her to suffer a little more. She got away. That pissed him off.”
    “Sexual assault?” D.D. asked.
    “Ask the ME. Clothing is intact. Nothing obvious.”
    “You think she’s the stepdaughter?”
    “Spitting image of the mom, doesn’t look a thing like the dad.”
    “So maybe his goal was sexual in nature. Was attracted to her, wanted her for himself….”
    Alex looked at her.
    “Come on, I’ll show you the rest.”

    The back of the house opened onto a screened-in porch. Kind of place to hang out during the mosquito-filled summer evenings. This area obviously hadn’t been included in the renovations; several screens were ripped, the linoleum floor peeled back at the seams. But that was okay. The ripped floor was now covered in blood, while the lone piece of furniture, a broken-down futon, had, according to Alex, become the resting place of an entire family.
    “He laid them out side by side. First the mom, then the oldest son, then the daughter, then the youngest son.”
    Alex pointed toward the blood-soaked mattress, currently buzzing with flies drawn to the scent of fresh kill.
    “ME has the bodies?” D.D. asked.
    “Yeah. Given the heat and fly activity, body removal was a priority.”
    “You’re saying the daughter was killed back here, though?”
    “On the futon, I think. ME will have to analyze, but it looks like he brought her back here, then strangled her—manual asphyxiation. Patrick’s a big guy. It wouldn’t have taken him that long.”
    “Then he moved all the other bodies?”
    “I’m guessing in that order. He’d want her taken care of first, then he’d tend to housekeeping.”
    D.D. frowned, not liking it. “You’re saying the subject carried three bodies through the house to this one room. Why don’t we see more blood? Seems like we should see trails of it everywhere.”
    Alex shrugged. “ME can tell you more, but I’m guessing the bodies had already bled out. Kept the process clean.”
    D.D. frowned. “I don’t get it. We’re talking the dad, right? First he slaughters his family person by person, then he brings them together for one last family