Cold Case in Cherokee Crossing by Rita Herron

Author:Rita Herron
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780263913781
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-31T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Avery stumbled from the SUV, shock rolling through her. “Who did this?”

She turned to Jaxon, hands on her hips. “Who cares enough about Hank and a murder he supposedly committed twenty years ago to torment me?”

“The person who really killed Mulligan,” Jaxon said matter-of-factly.

Fear shot through Avery, and she pivoted to search the street, then the woods behind her house.

Jaxon also visually searched the perimeter as they approached the front door. “There’s another possibility. There are always lunatics who follow death row cases. One of them could have paid you a visit because he knows you’re trying to stop the execution. You’d be surprised at the fanatics who protest against the death penalty while others lobby for it. Some of them even write prisoners and offer conjugal visits and marriage proposals.”

“But the warden said that Hank hadn’t had any visitors, not until I asked to see him.”

Jaxon snapped his fingers as if a thought just occurred to him. “I’ll call the warden and ask if Hank received any suspicious mail. It’s possible the killer wrote him.”

Avery started to touch the wording on the door, but Jaxon caught her hand. “Don’t. I want a crime team to process this place. Maybe whoever left that message also left a fingerprint.”

He stepped aside to call the crime team.

Although her first instinct was to run inside, grab cleaning supplies and erase the ugly message, Avery stepped back from the door, knowing Jaxon was right.

Memories of her teenage years bombarded her. The other teens teasing her, calling her a murderer’s daughter. A murderer’s sister.

Making jokes about when she would go ballistic and start her own killing spree.

One day a group had painted the word killer all over her locker.

After that, others had taunted her with the name. They said she had bad blood. That she’d end up in jail just like her father and brother.

Once she’d even considered getting a gun and firing it at the next person who tortured her with ugly words.

She’d even sneaked out of the group home that night and met a guy on the streets in a dark alley, one who’d promised her a Saturday-night special.

But she’d seen another little girl that night. A tiny little thing walking with her mother. They were holding hands singing some silly song about a frog. They’d looked so normal.

Her heart had ached. She’d never had normal.

Heaven help her, but she’d wanted normal. Wanted a family and someone to love her.

A light had flickered in her head—if she shot someone, she’d never have that life. She’d become exactly what the others kids called her. A killer. She’d prove that she had bad blood. And she’d end up in prison like her father and brother.

So she’d turned around and walked down the street, following the woman and child. She’d stood in the shadows and watched them enter the Humane Society. A few minutes later, they came out with a scruffy-looking dog.

The little girl and mother had laughed and giggled as the puppy licked the child’s face and nuzzled up to her.

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