After Sheriff Ryker finished giving the detectives the details of the corpse’s identity, he shifted his large body on a stool at the island. He held a steaming cup of coffee in his large hands. After taking a sip, he set the cup down then thoughtfully ran a hand over his chin. "I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something doesn’t smell right about this case."
"You don’t think it’s a drug deal gone wrong?" Frankie asked.
"It’s the way he was killed." He frowned. "I’ve never seen anything like that. There was so much rage behind the attack. What could that kid have possibly done to invoke such a violent attack?"
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