1
“Do you believe in evil?” Mrs. Byers asked.
Not a crazy question, Investigator Gina Firenzi thought, considering where they were.
A rundown shack of a house sitting on an acre of what was probably two million dollars worth of prime beachfront land. The shooter’s parents owned the house, bought it thirty years before when the values were low.
The house stood out, the only tear-down not torn down. The couple who owned it, neighbors said, were awful. Difficult. Combative.
The couple’s son lived in the shed in their back yard, and he was worse.
The parents were dead now. Shot by the son.
Along with thirty-six people at an outdoor New Year’s Eve party.
It made Gina sick in her heart.
“I don’t mean just criminality,” Mrs. Byers said. “I mean true human evil. You must see that sometime
