Kristy Parkers couldn’t believe what she was seeing through her grey eyes. It just couldn’t be. Darrel Michaels stood in the Foster’s kitchen, over the body of Rick Foster. There was a knife in his hand. There was a pool of blood gelling on the floor. So much blood, that’s all Kristy could see.
“I...I...I didn’t do it."
Kristy stepped around the body, careful not to leave any telling footprints in the blood. She took the knife from Darrel Michael’s shaking hand, closed it, and put in the pocket of her silver vinyl jacket.
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Peace, Much Love, and Blessed Be.
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