The Fall of Saints
My cell phone rang. I assumed it was from Detective Ben Underwood again. I looked at the backseat, where my son, Kobi, excitedly cradled his soccer ball; he had scored the winning goal for his side. I answered the phone and asked, “Hey, got more details?”
I heard muffled noise followed by shallow breathing. I took the phone from my ear and checked the caller ID. PRIVATE, it read. It was not Ben.
“Hello . . . Hello?”
No answer. I hung up. It rang again. The...