Page 73 of Den of Iniquity

Of course, grieving families had been there all along. I had met them time and again while working as a homicide investigator, but what I was seeing now, up close and personal, was how mushrooming drug overdose deaths were exponentially expanding their numbers.

I had just arrived at that uncomfortable conclusion when Mel came home. From the haggard expression on her face, I saw she wasn’t in any better shape than I was.

She had gone to meet the arrest team wearing her full dress uniform, so the first thing she did was kick off her high heels and drop down onto the sofa beside me.

“How was it?” I asked.

“Awful.”

“Let me guess, the wife and kids had no idea of what was coming.”

Mel nodded. “That’s right, not a clue. His wife, Alana, is utterly devastated. She didn’t even know he’d been put on leave. As for the kids? The two boys are only five and seven. They’re from a previous marriage, so although Pritchard is their stepfather, he’s also the only father they’ve ever known. The poor kids were horrified when one of my officers put handcuffs on him, led him out of the house, and loaded him into the back of a patrol car. That’s something I won’t forget in a hurry.”

“The media was there, I assume?”

“In full force,” she replied, “and so was a band of hecklers. I have no idea how word got out about the impending arrest, but it did. Within minutes of our showing up at the house, a crowd gathered out on the street, calling him a dirty old man and a pervert as he was led to the patrol car.”

“Which made things that much worse for the family.”

“Exactly,” Mel replied. “My department has several victim advocates on staff. I was tempted to send one of them over to talk to Alana. Fortunately she’s from here originally. By the time we were ready to pack up and leave, her mother and sister had both arrived on the scene. I told them that if there was any way I could be of assistance, they should call me.”

“And they probably will.”

“I don’t know what I should hope for,” Mel said with a sigh. “If they call or if they don’t, it’ll be bad either way.”

She stood up and collected her shoes. “I’m going to go change,” she added. “Did you know Hank’s still here?”

“I had no idea.”

“His car’s blocking the garage door, so I parked outside, but theracket coming from inside the garage sounded like machine-gun fire.”

“That’s the sound of two drummers drumming,” I said mildly.

“I’ll say.”

She started for the bedroom, but she was still in the living room when Kyle popped his head in the front door.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “Hank’s about to head home, but he says Ellen was off today. She’s made oxtail soup along with freshly baked bread to go with it. He wanted to know if we’d like to come over for dinner.”

I had been in and out of the Mitchells’ kitchen on occasion for a stray cup of coffee here and there, but never for an actual meal. And although Mel had been introduced to Ellen when she had paid visits to the call center, she had never set foot inside their home. As a consequence I was a little surprised when she replied to Kyle’s question before I had a chance to open my mouth.

“Sure,” she said. “What time?”

“Six thirty.”

“Great,” Mel said. “Tell him we’ll be there with bells on.”

“By the way,” Kyle added, “he told me it’s fine if we bring Sarah along. Mr. Bean misses her.”

Mel is far more of a social butterfly than I am, but having just gone through that very public arrest scene, I was amazed that she had so readily agreed to go have dinner with people who were relative strangers. With that in mind, when she went into the bedroom to change clothes, I padded along after her.

“Are you sure you want to go to dinner tonight?” I asked.

“Why not?” she said. “I sure as hell don’t want to cook. Do you?”

We both knew the answer to that question. Eating dinner with the Mitchells was a much better option all the way around.

Chapter 34

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