Death Is in the Details by Heather Sunseri

Author:Heather Sunseri [Sunseri, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, crime
ISBN: 9781943165315
Google: 7p-GxQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1943165319
Goodreads: 45269768
Publisher: Sun Publishing
Published: 2019-05-20T00:00:00+00:00

Aunt Leah made me a mug of tea—chamomile, to relax me. I wanted bourbon, but she hated how much I drank.

“Now tell me what’s got you so worked up,” she said as she set the steaming mug and a container of fresh local honey in front of me.

I grabbed the plastic bear bottle and squeezed a stream of honey into the tea. “What if everyone was wrong about Ethan, Aunt Leah? What if he didn’t do it?”

“Faith—what are you talking about? Ethan deserved his sentence. And to be honest, I’m truly sorry they let him out.”

“But how can you be so convinced? He loved his father, and Mom was more of a mother to him than his own mother had ever been.”

“The investigation was thorough. The empty gas cans were discovered in his car. He would have disposed of them had he not stopped to pull you out of the fire. And thank God for that. That was the only thing he did that kept me from wishing for the death penalty.”

“But… empty gas cans? That’s it? There were no fingerprints on those gas cans. And they didn’t find gloves at the scene.” I sounded like a better defense attorney than the one Ethan had at his trial.

“Faith, what’s gotten into you? You know all the facts as well as I do. You know he killed your mom.”

The front door slammed, and Uncle Henry appeared at the door to the kitchen. “I guess you’ve both heard,” he said as a greeting.

“I heard you arguing with Chief Reid,” I said, turning back around in my seat. I lifted the tea to my lips and blew on it before taking a sip.

“I’ve got a call in to my contact at the Bureau,” Uncle Henry said. “I plan to send that sorry-ass excuse for an FBI agent packing as quickly as possible.”

He was clearly beyond angry. His face was red as if overheated, and he seemed to be breathing heavier than usual.

It had been a long time since I’d heard Uncle Henry swear.

Did I tell my aunt and uncle that the “sorry-ass excuse for an FBI agent” had me at the top of his evidence board?

“Now, Henry,” Aunt Leah said, placing a hand on his cheek as if she were taking his temperature. “Don’t go giving yourself a heart attack.”

The front door slammed again, and two seconds later, Finch entered the kitchen. “Want to tell me how the FBI got the authority to reopen Mom’s case? This wasn’t a federal investigation. Why would it be considered one now?”

“I’m working on it,” Uncle Henry said. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a long lunch. Aubrey was having some chest pain and a little difficulty breathing when I checked on her earlier.”

“What?” Aunt Leah said.

“It’s okay, I got her to the doctor, and he said she was just having a panic attack. She says she got herself worked up over something she read in one of those parenting books, but if you ask me, this case being reopened is what stressed her out.

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