Weathers had grabbed him as he ran down the stairs, the boy's pockets full of change from the woman's nightstand. Tonight, Weathers thought he might run into the blond thief. He routinely swung his patrol car around the back of the kid's house, looking to see if he'd left on the back porch light. The burning light usually meant the teen was out working the neighborhoods, and the light would serve as a beacon to the fleeing thief running down a pitch black alley needing to duck inside his house quickly. But, before Weathers could even drive by the house, his radio crackled with traffic that stopped him cold.
Domestic calls go out over the air as aggravated assaults.
Victims died en route to the hospital or during surgery, and their deaths were then ruled homicides. To dispatch a call as a homicide from the get-go was downright weird. Weathers focused his attention on the black box as it cycled through frequencies, waiting to make sure he had heard the first message right. Man called, said wife was murdered in their house. Weathers said out loud.