Close to Home by Keith B Walters
Comforting hands on shoulders.
Knowing looks said sorry without words.
Endless cups of tea.
DI George Haven had been here countless times.
Stepping outside to allow the grieving family some peace, he took a deep breath.
Another stabbed teenager, another pointless loss of life.
But this time he felt something else, deeper, somehow darker.
Peering through the garden shed window he saw a desk and a stack of notebooks. The boy’s mother was a writer, this was her office.
Haven noted the door was unlocked, went in and started through the notebooks, discovering not everything in them was fiction.
He read of the mother’s wish that she’d only had one child.
She’d never wanted twins.
Haven looked up.
Someone was at the window.
The surviving brother staring at him.
The boy’s eyes told him more than blood-soaked hands would have.
He loved his mother.
Would do anything for that love.