INT. - PATTERSON MANSION - AFTERNOON
Gerri hated the next of kin visits most of all, but always volunteered to handle them personally. Part of her flinched from the experience, but the cop in her needed to see how the loved ones took the news of their departed's death. Her gut wouldn't let her do otherwise.
Belinda Patterson's house was a bit of a shocker, not because it was in Burnstile, the rich part of town, but because Gerri wasn't expecting the sprawling, modern mansion or the bodyguards at the door. Her phone buzzed, Jackson's text telling her about five seconds before the weeping housekeeper led her into a vast office she wasn't dealing with just any grieving husband.
Daryl Patterson stood from behind his desk, thinning blond hair carefully and artfully styled, soft tan doing its
