The Wrath Walker (The Wrath Series Book 1) by Matthew Newson (fun to read .txt) 📗

the floor. Wrath had to have already been hidden somewhere in the house, and that must have been how he attacked us off guard. I still didn’t fully buy the crazy story that he was the embodiment of God’s wrath, but he possessed abilities like I had never seen before. His speed and strength were not physically possible for his size.

Wrath said his life could be summed up with Ephesians chapter five, verse six. I’d had no idea how that applied to me or who the other four targets were. I looked all around the kitchen and the living room, and I didn’t see one picture with anyone that could be a family member or friend. If I started looking through everything, it would also make me look guilty, and everyone already knew how much I hated Ron. Either way, it was going to be a hard story to sell, and even I found it hard to believe everything I had seen that night.

The only thing left to do was to go over it all in my head repeatedly for the police report, and for my own investigation. Suddenly, red and blue lights appeared through the front windows, and I steadied myself for the long night of questioning ahead of me.

Chapter FourBrandon Farmer

The City of Black Castle

I OPENED THE DOOR TO two young officers who were seemingly unfazed by the scene before them. One immediately checked on Ron and called for an ambulance. The other sat with me at the kitchen table and took my statement of what happened. He looked at me like I was crazy when I told him everything. Soon the place was filled with CSIs and other officers who documented everything while the others searched every inch of the house. I still hadn’t seen a detective show up on the scene, and I hoped it was anyone but her. Just as I finished giving my statement, Lizzie walked into Ron’s house. I had discretely kept up with Lizzie and her career after my fall from grace, and she had risen up quickly in the ranks in the precinct. She had successfully investigated and arrested the remaining Riccis that didn’t get killed or flee the city after Ron had helped the Amaras destroy their empire. Now, many of the few remaining Riccis rotted away in various prisons all around the United States to make it harder for them to try and communicate with people on the outside in order to rebuild their network of crime.

Lizzie slowly and carefully looked around as she took a visual inventory of every detail at the scene, and then she locked eyes with me. “I should have known when I saw the address you would somehow be wrapped up in all of this.” Her look my way was of total and utter contempt. She walked up to me and the officer at the table.

My heart skipped a beat as she walked toward me. The overhead lights shimmered off her silky black hair and thin leather jacket. She stood at five foot five and was a force to be reckoned with due to her dedication to the gym. Her beautiful brown eyes pierced right through me, and the cruel way she looked at me brought back all the feelings from the moment she ended our relationship.

I cleared my throat and tried my best to look at her in a way that didn’t indicate I was dying inside. “Hello, Lizzie, how are you?”

“I do not go by that name anymore, Brandon. My name is Detective Elizabeth to you, and you will address me as such,” she said in a stern voice that commanded respect. Even the officer who took my statement looked intimidated by her verbal show of force.

“I’m sorry, Detective Elizabeth, I didn’t mean you any disrespect.”

“Well, I see you’re here with a gun. Did you finally snap and kill Ron? Seeing how you blamed him for losing your job and all your other problems instead of yourself where it squarely belongs.”

Her words caused a flame to well up in me, as I looked directly into her cold brown eyes. “I didn’t kill Ron. Yes, I brought my gun, but I never fired it. Once you get a moment to check the body, you’ll see he died from a single stab wound to the chest there, super cop. I thought detectives were supposed to look at all the evidence and facts of the case before they started assigning guilt. After all, aren’t people still innocent until proven guilty in this country, Detective Elizabeth?”

She seethed with anger at the dig of calling her super cop, and I knew she wanted to lay into me, but she kept her emotions in check like a good cop. She looked at the tablet the officer had written on. “Has Mr. Farmer completed giving his statement?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Would you please take Mr. Farmer to the precinct to wait for me to question him further as soon as I’m done gathering and analyzing all the evidence and facts here?” She glared my way. “That is what a super cop does, not that Mr. Farmer here would know anything about that.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll take him now.” The officer stood and led me to the door.

“Officer, aren’t you forgetting something?” Elizabeth called out.

“What’s that, detective?”

“Mr. Farmer needs to be placed in handcuffs since he is at the moment the only suspect to this murder investigation.”

“Yes ma’am.” The young officer asked me to place my hands behind my back.

“Come on, is this really necessary?”

Lizzie turned her back to me as I was handcuffed and led out.

She never gave me a second look.

WHEN I GOT TO THE STATION, I was greeted by angry looks and nasty comments uttered to me by several officers as I passed them on my way to the interrogation room. The same room I had used numerous times in the past as an officer of the law, but now I was on the