Daddy's Little Killer by LS Sygnet Page A

illuminating the
neighborhood.
    "Ready?" Briscoe asked after a brief
struggle out of the car.
    My eyes were already
devouring the scene.  Three men were on the front lawn
arguing.  One wore a dark jacket with the letters CSD emblazoned on the
back.  His index finger punctuated the air in front of another
man's nose – older, maybe Briscoe's age, in a long trench coat,
with a nice spare tire circling his waist.  Beside him, jet
black hair, sparks from the eyes, another trench coat with a badge
clipped sideways on his lapel was a younger, leaner man. 
Silver-haired fox from CSD seemed to be losing the
battle.
    Yellow strips of crime scene tape cordoned
off the front yard.  Uniformed officers were perched against
vehicles on the street. 
    Under the pale glow of a single bulb at the
front door stood another.  This one was a rumpled sentry, his
coat hem torn and hanging haphazardly on one side, wrinkles from
head to toe.  His tie was askew, and even from a distance, I
could see spots that were not part of its design randomly scattered
across the surface.  A thin sliver of wood rolled between his
lips from one side to the other and back again.  His arms
crossed over his chest, but one fist thumped irregularly against
his side.  His hair was jet black, and the narrow slit of his
eyes would likely disguise the color even when I was close enough
to see them.  His face was thin, gaunt, a man who didn't
overindulge at the table.  From a distance, he wouldn't have
been half bad to look at if he bulked up a bit and took better care
of himself.
    My eyes narrowed.  Central Division's
finest.
    Briscoe's speech played rapidly through my
mind.  Lieutenant somebody was his commanding officer. 
So where did that leave my old undergrad pupil Captain Martin?
    "Briscoe?"
    "Yeah."
    "What division is Rodney Martin working out
of?"
    His fingers bisected my upper arm. 
"You know Martin?"
    "Not in the way you associate with the
word.  I was getting my PhD and Rodney was an undergraduate in
one of the psychology classes I taught on occasion.  George
mentioned that he's a captain now."
    "He is," Briscoe said.  "At Central
Division.  He tells these buffoons what to do."
    "I take it those three are detectives out of
central."
    "That older dude is Matt Rogers.  The
slick bastard is his partner Jim Daltry."
    "And who is the one from CSD?"
    "Lieutenant Ken Forsythe.  He's the
commander of our Crime Scene Division."
    "I see."
    "Not to taint your perspectives of all this,
Eriksson, but Forsythe is one of the good guys.  Not that my
opinion counts."
    "And the one guarding the door?"
    "None other than Flynn Myre."
    My eyes wandered across the lawn a second
time, taking in more than the immediate area.  Light hair was
illuminated blue and red in turns.  Broad, hulking shoulders
on an enormous physique stood with his back toward me.
    "Briscoe, who are the uniformed officers
detaining?"  As I spoke, he turned toward me.  My jaw
dropped.
    "That's Johnny Orion.  I didn't mention
he's the one who found the victim tonight."
    And here I thought Todd
might be wondering why I vanished without a trace. 
Todd.  Todd Hunter aka Johnny Orion stood not more than twenty yards
away from me, staring with as much shock as I felt.  Clever
name, Orion the Hunter.  I wasn't the only one telling
lies.  Anger and humiliation mingled bitterly on the tip of my
tongue.  I swallowed it, put it away with the rage that would
be unleashed in due time. I was after all, a chip off the old
block, daddy's little killer.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 6
     
     
    I turned away
quickly.  Shit!   If Briscoe noticed my reaction to Orion, he didn't say
anything. 
    "We might have a hard time getting inside if
they won't let CSD in there," Briscoe said.  "Shall we,
Eriksson?"
    "Not without Forsythe."  I ignored the
urge to hop in the bubble car and race back to the airport at its
top speed of fifty-five.  What was Orion really doing in
D.C.?  Had