In still waters - стр. 36

Making a split-second decision, Nick changed course, steering his car towards Jeffrey's house instead of the precinct. The rain had stopped, but dark clouds still loomed overhead, mirroring the storm of emotions raging within him.

Nick's knock on Jeffrey's door was met with a series of muffled curses and the sound of stumbling footsteps. When the door finally swung open, the sight that greeted him was a far cry from the once-respected sheriff of Austin.

Jeffrey stood before him, a caricature of his former self. His face was puffy and red, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He wore a black T-shirt that had clearly shrunk in the wash, stretched obscenely over his protruding belly. His beige pants were unzipped, adding to the overall picture of dishevelment and decay.

"Well, well," Jeffrey slurred, his breath reeking of stale alcohol. "If it ain't Nick Larsen himself. What's the matter, hotshot? Can't crack the case without old Jeffrey's help?" His laughter was a harsh, grating sound that set Nick's teeth on edge.

Steeling himself against the wave of disgust that threatened to overwhelm him, Nick pushed past Jeffrey into the house. "We need to talk, Jeffrey. It's about Bradley and Steven."

At the mention of those names, something flickered in Jeffrey's bleary eyes – fear? Guilt? It was gone too quickly for Nick to be sure. "What about 'em?" Jeffrey mumbled, collapsing onto the couch with a grunt.

"They're dead, Jeffrey. Murdered last night, same M. O. as Rose."