I didn’t give her eye contact. I kept my gaze on Miller.

My phone started vibrating. Aunt Linda.

I answered. “Claudia, what on earth is happening?” Uncle George murmured anxiously behind her. Rodney had already called them, spinning a tragedy: Dad had suffered a violent psychotic break from sudden-onset dementia.

My brother was salting the earth in advance — controlling the narrative so the extended family would pressure me toward a convenient medical explanation instead of a criminal one.

“I have it handled, Linda.” I ended the call without offering a detail.

I turned back to the counter and put my palms flat on the scratched wood. “Officer Miller. I want a patrol unit dispatched to secure his house as an active crime scene.