Chapter 2
After leaving the jail, Jax went back out to the blood-soaked little house. No one was there now. The yellow tape still fluttered in the raw wind, the same wind driving ragged gray cloud-scraps scudding by from the north and west. Usually winter in El Paso was not much to worry about, but now and then, a storm swept in that got everyone’s attention. In late November? Early, but it could happen.
He stepped across the tape. The front door was closed, though he doubted it would be locked. They’d have had to replace the existing cheap lock and a couple of hinges if it was. Probably just shoved into place by the last man out. The door was clearly the same one, scarred and the middle bowed inward where someone had kicked it.
He’d check the house later. Automatically he reached for a
