Chapter 21: No Sleep
September 10, 20—
8:20 A.M.
Willow Street
Frankly, I hadn’t slept a wink the night before after running across the bloody helmet on the front stoop. Nerves had kept me up for most of the night, and my involvement in the Tad Dossner case.
What I did after finding the helmet was exactly what anyone else would have done in my situation. I called Officer Jim Tanner of the VPD and told him what I had found. Eight minutes later Jim and his partner, Reed Soldier, arrived at my Tudor and inspected the helmet. Jim was the one who said, “It’s not blood on the helmet. It’s paint.”
Soldier agreed.
“Blood,” I said with surprise in my voice, positioned beside both men in front of my house.
“It’s blood,” Jim reiterated. He then asked to see my cellphone and examined the incom
