Michael looked over at Richard, his eyes sharp and impossible to read.

“He wasn’t acting out of personal rage,” Michael said quietly.

“He was in a frantic scramble to destroy federal evidence.”

Richard got up from the vinyl chair and went to the narrow window that looked down into the concrete lightwell.

“His mother was in the house the whole time it was happening,” Richard said, watching a flock of sparrows settle on the edge of the roof.

“She came out onto the upstairs landing when she heard the pitcher hit the floor,” Emily said softly.