The wood groaned, but the latch held.
He struck it a second time, harder, his shoulders twisting with the force of the blow.
The door frame gave way with a sickening screech of pulling nails and splitting pine. The heavy white door swung inward into the darkness of the front hallway.
Officer Boyd stepped across the threshold first, her hand drawn slightly toward her side, her head tilted as she took a deep breath of the air escaping from the house.
A wave of cool, stale air drifted out onto the porch, carrying the distinct, chemical smell of fresh damp floor wax.
“Wait here, ma’am,” Officer Boyd said, her hand coming up to signal me to stop as I took a step toward the porch.
“Did you find her?” I called out, my voice cracking on the final word.
Officer Boyd turned her head slowly, her face pale in the shadow of the doorway. “Stay back, Emily. I smell something else in here.”
