The smell hit him first. That metallic taint was the first sign that something was wrong. Joe walked a little further into the room and nearly vomited. It wasn’t her body with its clothes already stained red from lying in a pool of blood. It was her severed head staring back at him from the kitchen table. Joe’s wife had been murdered. And the only clues were the bloody axe they’d use to chop off her head. And the muddy footprints leading out the back door. Which path does he choose?