Read Online Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3) by Alexa Grace - Free Book Online
Authors: Alexa Grace
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the window. Bradley was inside trying to tend to Tisha’s cuts, and she was pushing him away. He knelt down to take another look at the shoe prints. “No drops of blood. I think our guy stood here and watched them inside for a long time, before digging up the rock.”
“I agree. But why would your typical vandal, age eleven to seventeen, stand here alone watching a middle-aged couple have dinner? Not real exciting for a teenager. The alone part of the equation bothers me too. Nine times out of ten, vandalism is done as a group activity, like those kids last year who spray-painted the windows of the junior high school. Any rock throwing we’ve seen have been restricted to breaking windows of abandoned business buildings. And no rocks soaked with blood.”
“Any prints on or around this window?”
“No, sir. Nor were there any on the remaining lower-level windows. I checked them all.”
“What about tool marks? Any indicators he tried to break in.”
“None.”
“Did you find any discarded food packaging or cigarette butts we could analyze for touch DNA?”
Gail shook her head. “Sorry, nothing like that was found.”
“Well, shit. Could we not catch a break on this one?”
“We’ll keep looking.”
“How did he get here? Any tire impressions?”
“No. Cheryl thinks he left the vehicle on the highway, or he had someone drop him off, and then pick him up later. But that idea of dropping him off and picking him up later sounds awfully risky for a guy who obviously wore gloves to avoid leaving his fingerprints. He’s more careful than that. Too many things could have gone wrong with that scenario.”
Cameron thought it over and decided he agreed with his deputy. Their guy was careful and organized. He did not want to get caught. “Here’s what bothers me. He brings blood to the scene, but not the rock. It’s like he’s been here before and knew the landscaping and exactly where he could find a large rock for his purposes. And why include the blood? Most vandals would be happy just to crash the rock through the window. But not our guy. What’s he trying to communicate? That he has the power to scare the living crap out of the Lucas couple? What was he trying to accomplish?”
Cameron shot another look inside the house. Cheryl had finished photographing the living room and was bagging the rock. Soon she appeared on the front porch to tell him she was heading back to the lab.
Cameron glanced back through the window. Bradley had left the living room, but Tisha sat in a chair, studying a folded piece of paper. When her husband returned, Tisha shoved the paper in her pocket as if she didn’t want him to see it. Something was up with her, and Cameron was determined to find out what.
“Gail, you’re thirsty.”
“How did you know? Am I on your psychic wavelength?”
Grinning, Cameron edged toward her. “You’re about to ask Mr. Lucas for a glass of water. Once in the kitchen, you will engage him in a conversation.”
Opening the front door, Gail said, “You got powers, boss. Mystical powers.”
Through the window, he saw Bradley leave with Gail, so he headed inside. Tisha still sat in the chair by the fireplace, hands balled into fists in her lap. Cameron casually approached her, hands in his pockets.
“Tisha, I forgot to ask you something.”
She angled her head toward him, wariness in her eyes.
“Can you think of anyone who would want to do something like this?”
Tisha shrugged her shoulders. “It’s probably a teenage prank, like you said.”
“We discovered some things outside that have inspired me to change my opinion on that.”
She nearly jumped out of her chair, before she quickly composed herself. “What? What did you find?”
Aiming his thumb over his shoulder at the window behind him, he said, “He stood out there watching you and your husband for a while, shuffling back and forth on his feet. The typical teenager would have shot out of your yard if he knew the couple
“I agree. But why would your typical vandal, age eleven to seventeen, stand here alone watching a middle-aged couple have dinner? Not real exciting for a teenager. The alone part of the equation bothers me too. Nine times out of ten, vandalism is done as a group activity, like those kids last year who spray-painted the windows of the junior high school. Any rock throwing we’ve seen have been restricted to breaking windows of abandoned business buildings. And no rocks soaked with blood.”
“Any prints on or around this window?”
“No, sir. Nor were there any on the remaining lower-level windows. I checked them all.”
“What about tool marks? Any indicators he tried to break in.”
“None.”
“Did you find any discarded food packaging or cigarette butts we could analyze for touch DNA?”
Gail shook her head. “Sorry, nothing like that was found.”
“Well, shit. Could we not catch a break on this one?”
“We’ll keep looking.”
“How did he get here? Any tire impressions?”
“No. Cheryl thinks he left the vehicle on the highway, or he had someone drop him off, and then pick him up later. But that idea of dropping him off and picking him up later sounds awfully risky for a guy who obviously wore gloves to avoid leaving his fingerprints. He’s more careful than that. Too many things could have gone wrong with that scenario.”
Cameron thought it over and decided he agreed with his deputy. Their guy was careful and organized. He did not want to get caught. “Here’s what bothers me. He brings blood to the scene, but not the rock. It’s like he’s been here before and knew the landscaping and exactly where he could find a large rock for his purposes. And why include the blood? Most vandals would be happy just to crash the rock through the window. But not our guy. What’s he trying to communicate? That he has the power to scare the living crap out of the Lucas couple? What was he trying to accomplish?”
Cameron shot another look inside the house. Cheryl had finished photographing the living room and was bagging the rock. Soon she appeared on the front porch to tell him she was heading back to the lab.
Cameron glanced back through the window. Bradley had left the living room, but Tisha sat in a chair, studying a folded piece of paper. When her husband returned, Tisha shoved the paper in her pocket as if she didn’t want him to see it. Something was up with her, and Cameron was determined to find out what.
“Gail, you’re thirsty.”
“How did you know? Am I on your psychic wavelength?”
Grinning, Cameron edged toward her. “You’re about to ask Mr. Lucas for a glass of water. Once in the kitchen, you will engage him in a conversation.”
Opening the front door, Gail said, “You got powers, boss. Mystical powers.”
Through the window, he saw Bradley leave with Gail, so he headed inside. Tisha still sat in the chair by the fireplace, hands balled into fists in her lap. Cameron casually approached her, hands in his pockets.
“Tisha, I forgot to ask you something.”
She angled her head toward him, wariness in her eyes.
“Can you think of anyone who would want to do something like this?”
Tisha shrugged her shoulders. “It’s probably a teenage prank, like you said.”
“We discovered some things outside that have inspired me to change my opinion on that.”
She nearly jumped out of her chair, before she quickly composed herself. “What? What did you find?”
Aiming his thumb over his shoulder at the window behind him, he said, “He stood out there watching you and your husband for a while, shuffling back and forth on his feet. The typical teenager would have shot out of your yard if he knew the couple
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