Violence
El policía se sacó algo del bolsillo. Era una fotografía.
—¿Lo reconoces, Josh?"
No podía creerlo. Me la quedé mirando fijimente.
Andrew también la miró. Después de unos segundos dijo:
—Parece el garrote que papá te dio.
—¿No son ésas tus iniciales, Josh? —preguntó la mujer policía.
Contesté que sí con la cabenza.
—Fue con esto con lo que golpearon a Scott. Lo tenemos en la estación de policía, Josh. Además de tus iniciales, tiene tus huellas digitales.
He introduced himself as Bill Bonney, but said that everyone just calls him Kid because he's only eighteen. That makes him two years older than me, but he's smooth-cheeked and lightly built and could pass for younger. I think back to the other Kid I've met—the man I killed last year. But Bill is different. I've immediately taken a liking to him.
I was turning the corner to my street when I spotted the key. Because of the way the sun was shining, it glistened. Someone had left it right in the lock of their front door.
The house was a small red brick cottage that looked a lot like ours. I walked up the front stairs and raised my finger to the doorbell. My plan was to let whoever lived there know they'd forgotten the key.
I didn't ring the doorbell. I turned the doorknob and let myself in.
