“Do you mind if I look around?” she asked.
Hunter hesitated. “Hold on.” He took a step toward Carl’s room, but she blocked him.
“You can’t touch anything sir. Not right now anyway.” Her voice was firm, but not angry. It had a tone of empathy in it.
“We don’t care if there’s any evidence of partying,” Deputy Myers said.
Hunter nodded. “Okay, go on ahead…Wait, why do you want to look around?”
“I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’ll just spill it out. This morning, a jogger on the running path, found your stepfather. Ordinarily, we would have asked you to identify him, but he was easily recognizable.”
“How is he? Is he okay?” Hunter sat down.
“I’m sorry to say this, but he’s dead.” Deputy Myers spoke as if he had uttered those words countless of times. His voice was flat. Unemotional.
Hunter blinked. “What?” He slouched in his chair as if someone just punched him in the stomach. “That can’t be. There must be some mistake.”