2 Days Later
Richard
The scent of grief hung heavy in the air, clinging to Karen like a shroud. Brenda, my new partner, leaned across the table, with her long jet black ponytail loosely behind her, her brown eyes fixed on Karen's reddened eyes. "Please, ma'am," she said, her voice gentle but firm almost hiding her thick New York accent, "tell us what you can remember about the day your father died. Was there anything suspicious at all?"
We had invited Karen to the police station for questioning to help unravel her father's death, which we were certain was a murder, not an accident or a suicide.
Karen's shoulders hitched, and a fresh wave of tears welled up. "I… I can't remember much," she stammered. "Just that I was so happy. He had finally transferred his shares to me, something he always said he wouldn't do."
