Window of Guilt Read Online Free PDF

face was a stone mask.
    “Look, I’ll talk to the little dude in the morning and tell him to hang with his group.”
    “Whatever.”
    He started towards the family room. “Hey, Laurie? I do love you.” His words rang with all the sincerity ten years can bring to a marriage.
    “Sometimes love isn’t enough,” she mumbled.
    “How about we pop in a movie and take our minds off this shit?”
    “Not tonight. I’m still really freaked out.”
    “Sure.” Ryan shut the lights, then followed her up the stairs. “Where’s Rocky?”
    “Asleep on Rory’s bed.”
    “Should we wake him for one last pee?”
    “Who?” She gave a faint chuckle. “Rory or Rocky?”
    “Now there’s the old Laurie I know and love,” he kidded, embracing her as they stood on the hall landing. “And should we wake you for one last?”
    Laurie broke from his embrace. “Good night, Ryan.”
    “Just asking.”
    *
    “You’re up early,” Laurie said, allowing herself an appreciative glance at her swimming trunks-clad husband before retreating once again behind her newspaper.
    Ryan rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “I got up to go to the bathroom and stepped in a puddle of pee.”
    “That’s weird. Last night, Rocky peed in Rory’s bed, too.”
    “He never pees in the house,” mused Ryan. “Maybe he has a urinary tract infection.”
    Since his heart attack, Ryan was a damned medical encyclopedia. “Maybe he’s experiencing flashbacks about finding a dead body on the grass,” Laurie said wryly.
    “You going to be sarcastic, I’m going back upstairs.”
    She smiled and reached for him over the newspaper. “Stay.”
    “You sure?”
    “Listen, I was really over-the-top last night,” said Laurie.
    “Apology accepted. If I thought I’d seen a stiff on my front lawn, I’d have lost it, too.”
    Laurie tensed. “I saw what I saw.”
    Ryan grabbed a plastic pitcher from the fridge. “Listen, we need to be on the same page with Rory this morning about that vagrant.” Ryan unscrewed the pitcher top and breathed in orange essence. “Is this frozen or fresh?”
    “Straight from the juicer.”
    He gulped down the juice.
    “Ry! What if Rory should come downstairs?”
    “This is how real men drink,” he kidded, replacing the pitcher on the refrigerator shelf.
    Laurie rolled her eyes.
    Ryan popped two slices of wheat bread into the toaster, then glanced at his wife. “You okay? You’re not bustling around this morning.” Laurie pushed The Briar Gazette his way. “Read this.”
    Her husband pulled a pair of reading glasses from his T-shirt pocket:
    “The search for a youth seen lurking about Briar Lodge Camp early yesterday afternoon ended last night around five o’clock pm when a young male fitting his description was found dead at 201 N. Briar Road.
    Upon arriving home from shopping with her friends, Property Owner Helga Beckermann phoned nine-one-one after spotting the body in her driveway. ‘My heart just about stopped.’
    No identification was found on the body. Yet police say the yellow jersey with the initials ‘TG’ printed on the front and the number ‘1’ matched the description given them yesterday by Camp Supervisor Lisa Freeman.
    Rumors that the young man served time in prison for voyeurism of young children have not been verified. Burt Cummings, a lifelong resident of Lac La Belle, voiced the unspoken sentiments of many residents here. ‘I’m sorry the kid is dead, but I’m sure as hell glad we won’t have to worry about him bothering our young ones.’
    Police Officer Carmen Gomez with the Lac La Belle Volunteer Police Department is investigating the case. ‘So far, the young man’s face has not been computer identified as a criminal in any context. If anyone has information about his identity, they should contact the police at 264-655-0200.’”
    “This is great news,” said Ryan, attempting to give Laurie a high five.
    Laurie pulled her hand away in midair. “Really?”
    “The vagrant’s