The widow, Martha Henderson, was dead.
My wife Rachel and I had been cleared of suspicion, but whoever was behind this didn't seem ready to let us go...
Mayor Frank Wilson was dead.
He died the day after I received that call from Martha Henderson.
At 8:16 AM, I left Frank's house and heard screaming. By the time I got back, Frank's limbs had been severed and arranged neatly on the floor. If you weren't looking carefully, you'd think he was just lying there asleep.
"Who? Who the hell did this!"
I roared in that room. To kill and dismember someone in such a short time—the killer probably didn't even have time to leave.
I was in danger staying in that room.
Frank Wilson was our town mayor, never made enemies, always helped settle disputes between neighbors.
"Frank, what's taking you so long? Let's get this meeting started."
A voice came from the doorway. It was Tom Richards from the town council.
"You... you killed him!"