He didn’t want to look. But he had to look, and fought the urge to throw up. He warned her not to go out tonight. Not with a psycho killer on the loose. Shawna was hell bent on going out, insisting nothing would happen to her.
Tom knew she hated her home life, but it didn’t have to end this way. Her mother died seven years ago, when Shawna was eleven. And from what Tom heard, her father kept hooker’s on a retainer. Shawna grew up thinking that was the only way for a girl to make money. Tom helped her every chance he could but it wasn’t enough.
Tom went to Shawna’s house to tell her father. He heard singing and chanting through the door. He pounded on the door and identified himself. After the third time, he drew his gun and kicked the door in.
Two men stood there, covered in blood and smelling like booze. Shawna’s farther was holding a bloodstained butcher knife.
“Get out!” Shawna’s father slurred, and pointed toward the door.
“Drop the knife!” Tom pressed the gun to his head
The knife dropped to the floor, and Tom wrestled him to the ground. “You killed you own daughter,” Tom whispered into his ear.
Tom picked him up to a sitting position and cuffed him. Realizing what he had done, he sat there sobbing while Tom restrained his bloody partner.