Maniacal: A Detective Jade Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 Read Online Free Page B

I are headed to Milwaukee to inform the next of kin.”
    “So the boys found a fingerprint match?”
    “Yeah, they sure did. It looks like the kid has been in the system for a while.”
    “Roger that. Okay, talk to you later.”
    At three o’clock, we pulled up along the curb in front of a modest, worn-looking clapboard bungalow on Garfield, just south of and parallel to North Avenue. Plastic sheeting covered a broken window, and the peeling paint curled upward from sun damage and years of neglect. Fallen roof shingles lay in the unattended weed-filled yard. The neighborhood was littered with vacant boarded-up houses mixed in with the occupied ones. Images of criminal activity filled my mind thanks to the unkempt area and the number of people lingering at street corners and on stoops as they watched us exit our unmarked cruiser. That was one of the most run-down, crime-ridden areas of Milwaukee.
    I knocked on the door twice before I heard footsteps approaching. A deep growl came from not more than ten inches away. Only a front door that had seen better days separated us from what sounded like a large, angry dog. The curtain to our right shifted. A man’s face stared out at us, giving us the once-over. He looked to be a tall, skinny man in his midforties, I’d guess. He resembled the type of person that got most of their needs fulfilled with beer and cigarettes rather than healthy meals.
    “Sir, we’re with the Washburn County Sheriff’s Department.” Jack and I showed him our badges through the glass. “We need to speak to somebody about Morris King. We’d like to come in, but the dog will have to be removed from the room first.”
    “What’s this about?”
    “Are you related to Morris King, sir?”
    “I’m his uncle and his legal guardian. What do you want?”
    “May we come in? We have information about Morris.”
    He dropped the curtain back, and I heard him call the dog away. The sound of footsteps returned, and he opened the door to the end of the chain lock.
    “Is the dog secure in another room?”
    “Yeah.”
    “May we enter?”
    He closed the door, released the chain lock, and opened it fully.
    “Sir, I’m Sergeant Jade Monroe, and this is Detective Jack Steele. We’re from the criminal investigations unit of the sheriff’s department. We’d like to talk to you about Morris. Your name is?”
    “The name is Terrance King. Criminal investigations unit? What did Morris do now?”
    He pointed to the sofa. He took a seat on the rocking chair facing us from the other side of the small living room. I did a quick assessment of the area I could see. The smell of stale cigarettes and garbage filled the house. I wished a window had been open. Dirty ashtrays sat scattered about on every flat surface. Disarray was rampant. What looked like years of stacked newspapers and magazines sat in the corner of the living room. Most of the window blinds had broken slats, and the beige carpet was threadbare and filthy. A quick glance into the kitchen told me the dishes hadn’t been washed in who knew how long. They overflowed the sink onto the countertops, and the table was just as bad. I turned my attention back to Terrance King.
    “Does Morris legally live here? You said you were his guardian.”
    He smirked. “This is his address on record, but is he ever around? No, ma’am. I see that boy now and then when he comes home to shower and put on clean clothes. He’s out with his crew most all day and night.”
    “Does Morris have a job?” I asked. I watched Jack jot down everything Terrance was saying.
    Mr. King laughed and slapped his knee. “He sure does. That’s if selling drugs and stolen goods is a job.”
    “Mr. King, I don’t want to prolong this more than I have to. We’re here to inform you that Morris has passed away. We’ll need to know everything you can possibly tell us about his friends, his hangouts, and so on.”
    “Oh my, my, my, dear Jesus… did he overdose on something?” Terrance