New: love 1

I covered my mouth and nose with a hand as the smell hit me with the force of a Mack truck. I knew that smell. My job as a journalist had put me in more than one situation involving the dead or dying. I turned the corner and entered what was undoubtedly known as “the parlor”. Governor Welling lay motionless on the ground, a small, neat hole drilled through his forehead. I sat down hard on the floor, my legs unwilling to hold me upright. I tried to untangle my emotions as I sat there. I wasn’t exactly sure what I should be feeling, but I was fairly certain it wasn’t the mixture of relief and disgust that roiled through me.

I heard the sound of wailing and it yanked me back to the here and now. I followed it to the back door where a woman in a pale-blue tracksuit sat on the steps, huge gasping sobs shaking her tiny body.

“You’re the one who called me,” I said, knowing this had to be the housekeeper whose pani

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