A Merciful Death by Elliot Kendra

Author:Elliot, Kendra [Elliot, Kendra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, thriller, Romance, Suspense, Crime, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781477818268
Amazon: 147781826X
Goodreads: 31548529
Publisher: Montlake Romance
Published: 2017-01-17T08:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

Truman sat at his desk, looking at the broken-mirrors photos from Ned Fahey’s and Enoch Finch’s homes. He’d memorized the photos from Uncle Jefferson’s home. Now he stared at the others, searching for something in common and wondering if he could figure out what had been used to break the mirrors.

Bullets had destroyed the mirrors in Jefferson’s home. Just as they’d destroyed his uncle.

But no bullets had been found behind the mirrors in the other two homes.

Why hadn’t anyone else connected the mirrors from the old cases yet? Surely there was a police officer or county deputy who recalled that detail. Why had it been pointed out by someone who’d been a teenager at the time?

Coincidence?

If Mercy Kilpatrick hadn’t been assigned to the murders, would those two old cases still be sitting in the file room? Waiting for Lucas to run a duster over their box?

Truman didn’t believe in coincidences. Not yet, anyway.

He laid out all the broken-mirror pictures on his desk. Five different cases. Fourteen different pictures. The glass of each small accessory mirror had fallen out of its frame, but the bathroom mirrors had stayed glued in place. Except for in one of the Vargas bathrooms, where the mirror had been a medicine cabinet door and it’d crumbled to pieces across the counter.

Did the same person cause all this destruction?

Why?

Truman wanted to bang his head on his desk. It would be as helpful as staring at pictures.

“Chief?” Royce Gibson stepped into his office. “You wanted an update on the agents?”

A pang of guilt struck Truman’s chest. “Sure.”

“Special Agent Peterson headed in the direction of Bend. I assume he’s going to the FBI office. Special Agent Kilpatrick headed out on Route Eighty-Two this morning. I didn’t follow either of them outside the city limits.”

Truman thought for a minute. “Rick Turner lives off Eighty-Two, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mercy had been headed toward her sister’s house. Truman wondered if she was nervous. She hadn’t said much about her sister that morning, but Truman had put enough pieces together to know it wasn’t going to be an easy visit.

“Thanks, Royce.”

The cop lingered in the doorway, shifting from one foot to another and letting his gaze roam about the room.

“Is there something else?” Suspicion prickled at the back of Truman’s neck.

“It might be stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Royce fidgeted some more. “There’re rumors going about. Not a lot, but I’ve heard it three times now. And everyone says they don’t know if it’s true.”

“What is it, Royce?” Eagle’s Nest thrived on rumor. Truman got some of his best information from the gossip chain. Along with a lot of garbage.

“Ever hear of the cave man?” he asked in a wavering voice.

Truman raised a brow. Ina’s cave man?

Royce’s face turned red and he studied his shoes. “You said to tell you everything.”

“Spit it out.”

The cop managed to look him in the eye. “I heard some hunters spotted weapons near a cave along with signs of someone living there. They left quickly, afraid they’d stumbled onto personal property.

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