The door swung open, revealing trees hung full of over compensating colour and the ground buzzed with windfall apples. The grass was long, unkempt and scraggy. There was an old and empty swimming pool, decayed with it's once blue tiles, bleached white with the sun. An ornamental bird bath razed to the ground, an over grown pergola groaned and a leaning outhouse lay lazily about the garden. This place once held a family in his care. The rusted swing stood, like a sentry, waiting. The air was chilled and the weeds violently twisted in throngs of green and yellow. But it was the mound of roughly dug earth, six feet by three, that made Miller's heart falter.
“Looks like we got ourselves a crime scene...” Abbie looked on, hands in her pockets.
“****, I hope not...” Miller opened his phone.