queen and college graduate. She was the daughter of Anthony and Bobbie Cooke and fiancée to Justin Andrews. Destiny had the brightest of futures ahead of her, but that all ended at her wedding rehearsal when Evan and Devan Lucas abducted and later killed her. Her funeral was attended by most of Shawnee County. Cameron had tried to stick by Justin most of the day, because the state trooper was his friend and needed him. That day, and in the days to follow, Justin seemed broken, and there wasn’t a damn thing Cameron could do about it.
Did he think Anthony, Bobbie, and Justin were angry about the way Destiny died? Who wouldn’t be? Was their rage so fierce as to seek retribution? He didn’t know.
He jotted down the Cooke’s address and made a mental note to call Justin later. Most of the time, he loved his job. This was not one of those times.
Deputy Sawyer popped in his office at seven, holding a hot cup of fresh coffee and a newspaper.
“Good morning, Gail. Thanks for the coffee, but I’ve got no time to read the paper.”
She unfolded the newspaper on his desk in front of him. “Sir, I think you’ll want to see this.”
Taking a quick sip of coffee, he waited for her to explain, but she’d already left the room. Glancing down, he saw why she disappeared with such haste. The headline read: Vandal sets Lucas Mailbox on Fire. Aw, shit. Where in the hell did they get their information? The article was short, but hinted that this was not the first act of vandalism to the Lucas property, and that the couple had been the targeted. Great. Just great. As if they didn’t have enough going on, the article had the potential to give every copycat nutcase wild ideas on how they could harm the Lucas couple and get the support of most of the county.
Cameron slammed his fist on the desk, and then reached for his phone. He dialed the editor’s number at the Morel Journal .
“Hello, Sgt. Chase. It didn’t take you long to call.” Jack Wyatt, the new editor, had proved himself to be an asshole and no friend to the Shawnee Sheriff’s Office. A small man, Jack was no more than five foot four. Carly once said he had a Napoleon complex; he compensated for his small size by being overly aggressive, even when the situation didn’t call for aggression in the first place. That summed up Jack Wyatt in a nutshell.
“Looks like you had a slow news day. Since when do vandalism articles become headline news?”
“I guess it depends on whose property the vandalism occurs.”
“It was a mailbox, Jack. It wasn’t their house and garage. We’re not talking a towering inferno.”
“This time…”
Cameron ignored his remark and continued, “How did you even know about it?”
“Got an anonymous call.”
The editor acted like he was a leading member of the press who’d just uncovered the scoop of the century. Cameron had the urge to shake him. It was just a fucking mailbox. Next he’d say he had to protect his sources.
“Who called you?”
“How do I know? I said it was anonymous.”
Cameron rolled his eyes. “Right.”
“I know this isn’t the first time the Lucas place was vandalized. The caller said something about a bloody rock?”
This got Cameron’s interest. The only one who’d know about the bloody rock was the guy who threw it. “Sorry, Jack, I’m not sure what he’s talking about. Did he say anything else?”
“He did, but he was mumbling and I couldn’t understand him.”
“Any chance I can get a hold of your phone records?”
“Not even a sliver of a chance.”
“Have you ever heard of the term ‘obstruction of justice’?”
“Hey, get a warrant. Go for it.”
Cameron shook his head. Did he expect anything less from Editor Jack Wyatt? He called Gail in so she could start the process to subpoena Jack’s business phone records. If they were lucky, they’d be able to identify their suspect by his telephone number. On the other hand, the chances were excellent that David109 used a
C. J. Cherryh
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