By the time the car stopped, Jane was already out the door slipping through the gathering collection of law enforcement. An ambulance stopped suddenly to avoid hitting him as he rushed in front of it in his blinkered haste. Someone shouted angry words he didn't have time for at him as he slipped past them into the wretched old house. As quickly as blinking he found himself at the entrance to a room busy with activity.
An armoured man brushed passed him, calling the room clear. He noticed Jane, but before he could protest, Jane flashed his identification at him and distractedly told him he was with the CBI. His eyes were already searching the shadowed room; searching for her. His eyes hooked on a body crumpled on the floor and he was paralysed. Suddenly the room was lit – someone had brought a torch, not that Jane cared at this point. The light directed at the body and Jane could see her loosely curled brown hair spilling across the floor, her head tilted unnaturally towards the entrance of the room and her face…..
Jane didn't notice himself moving across the room, didn't feel the impact of his knees on the bare floorboards as he dropped heavily to the ground, wasn't aware of the tears falling to join them. Her face was a pale background to that bright red of the blood marring her beautiful face. Death painted across her lips like lipstick, but in the exaggerated grin of a psychotic clown. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, just as his daughters had been. A horrible choking, wailing kind of noise erupted in the room as Jane pulled her body to himself that he could no longer recognise as his own voice.