Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3) (7 page)

“What’s your point? To buy them off? Do you really think money will make them feel any better about losing their girls than we feel about losing our sons?”

“No, I didn’t think this would buy anyone off. I just feel so ashamed and guilty, I wanted to somehow contribute to their lives in a positive way.”

“So giving our money away is supposed to make us feel less guilty for what our sons did? Not likely, Bradley. It also won’t change who we are. For the rest of our days, we’re going to be known as Bradley and Tisha Lucas, the parents of serial killers. No amount of money is going to change that. Nothing is going to make us less-hated than we are.”

“Surely people don’t blame us…”

Tisha cut him off, slapping her napkin on the table. “Are you kidding? Are you really that clueless? People fucking despise us. They blame us for what Evan and Devan did. We are the most hated people in Shawnee County. Hell, the most detested in the state of Indiana, and thanks to Crime Scene Network, the entire world. Casey Anthony’s parents can’t compete with us.”

The front window exploded as a large object hurtled into the room, sending shattered glass airborne into their hair and clothing. Bradley jumped to his feet and Tisha scrambled back until her shoulder hit the edge of the fireplace mantel. Heart pounding painfully in his chest, Bradley pulled his wife into his arms and did a quick examination. There were tiny, bloody cuts all over her face, neck and arms. Her eyes reflecting pure terror, she clung to him.

He led her to a chair, handed her his cell phone, and insisted she sit down. “Stay here and call 9-1-1. I’m getting my gun. He may still be out there.”

“No! You could get hurt. Don’t go, Bradley. Please.”

Ignoring his wife’s pleas, he raced to his gun case, unlocked it, retrieved his Glock and returned to the front door. Yanking it open, he stepped onto the porch, scanned the yard and cursed himself for not getting a flashlight. Seeing nothing, he headed back inside.

In the living room, his heart froze when he saw Tisha, standing near the window, trembling as she held a rock dripping with what he initially thought was red paint. Moving closer, he saw the horror in her eyes as she stared down at it.

“Honey, give it to me.”

Slowly she handed it to him, then wiped compulsively at her clothing as if the red substance were acid, burning her skin.

The first thing he noticed as he held the rock was a coppery smell he’d know anywhere. It wasn’t coated with red paint, it was covered in blood, sticky and so slippery, he dropped it onto the carpet.

Chapter Fourteen

The Rock

It wasn’t the type of call a sergeant normally took, but when Cameron heard the dispatcher say Bradley Lucas’ name, he shot out of the building and gunned his sheriff’s office-issued SUV, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Reaching the Lucas place, he whipped into the long driveway, followed close behind by a squad car. Deputy Gail Sawyer had radioed that she was in the area.

As Cameron stood on the front porch, pounding on the door, he noticed a jagged gash in the front window glass. He slipped a pair of paper shoe covers on his feet.

Running to catch up with him, Gail said, “Check out that window.”

“Noticed.”

Covering her own shoes, she asked, “Want me to call in for a crime scene tech?”

“Not yet. Let’s talk to the Lucas couple first.”

Bradley, holding a white hand towel and a brown plastic bottle, opened the door and invited them inside. They followed him into the living room where Tisha sat near the fireplace. Bradley sat down near her and began dabbing her cuts with hydrogen peroxide. Tisha was pale and looked shaken to her core.

Cameron and Gail headed to the broken window and noticed a large rock on the carpet, coated with what looked like blood. Cameron looked back at Bradley. “Did you touch this?”

“I’m afraid we both did.”

“Where was it before you touched it? Where did it land when it came through the window?”

Tisha spoke up. “It was on my mother’s antique table there. The rock shattered the crystal vase she gave me before she died.”

“Did you move the table?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No. The table was directly in front of the window as it is now.”

“I’ll call in a crime scene tech and then I’ll check out the yard,” Gail said over her shoulder as she left the room.

Bradley pointed to the sofa, indicating him to sit down. “I’m surprised to see you here, Sergeant.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Cameron remained standing. “I was in the neighborhood when I heard the call.” He turned back to look at the table again, wondering how far from the window someone would have to stand outside for the rock to reach the table when thrown.

“How about starting at the beginning, Bradley.”

“There’s not much to tell. Tisha and I were talking over dinner, when that rock crashed through the window. I got my gun and checked the front yard and driveway but didn’t see anyone.”

“Have you had problems with vandalism in the past?”

Frowning thoughtfully, Bradley slowly shook his head. “No. We’ve lived here close to twenty years and nothing like this has ever happened. One of the reasons we moved here is because it’s far enough outside of town to be private and peaceful. The nearest neighbors are at least a mile away.”

Cameron glanced at Tisha who seemed complacent, letting Bradley speak for the both of them. This was not the outspoken Tisha Lucas he remembered.

“Can you think of anyone who would want to do something like this?”

“Not a soul,” Bradley said. “Can’t say I know anyone who’d get his jollies out of breaking my window. Maybe it’s a teenage prank, and the kids got the wrong house. There’s a math teacher who lives down the road. Maybe he flunked the wrong kids and they wanted payback.”

“Maybe. Seems like someone went to a lot of trouble for a prank or getting back at a teacher.” He eyed the window again.

“Were the drapes open or closed when it happened?” Cameron aimed his question at Tisha, who quickly averted her eyes and tightened her grip on the white hand towel she was holding. Odd behavior for such a simple question.

After a moment, she answered. “Open. Just like they are now.”

The window covered the entire front wall of the room. Cameron wondered how long the man or woman who threw the rock had stood outside the window, watching Bradley and Tisha. Whoever did this knew they were home and knew exactly where they were in the house when he or she threw the rock. Were they targets? If so, what was the motive? They were a quiet couple, so the only motive he could think of was unresolved anger about the murders their sons had committed. But that had been a year ago. If that was a motive, why not take action before now?

Deputy Sawyer appeared in the doorway and motioned him to join her outside. “Follow me, I have something to show you.”

With her flashlight illuminating the way, she led him to a small landscaped area of ornate bushes, flowers, and rocks. He nodded to Cheryl Davis, a crime scene technician, who was on her knees, photographing something in the grass.

Finally Gail pointed to an indentation in the ground, marked by a yellow flag. “That’s where he got the rock.”

“What about the blood?”

“Come this way.” Gail led him to the area where Cheryl knelt. A pool of blood lay on the grass, seeping into the ground.

Cameron ran his fingers through his hair. “So where did he get the blood?”

“Don’t know. We’ll have to analyze it at the lab to see if it’s human. I’m thinking not.” Cheryl eased the camera from her face. “My theory is he brought the blood with him, maybe in a jar or something. He found the rock, dug it up, and carried it over here. Then he poured the blood on it. See how the yellow flags lead from here to the house. Each flag marks blood we found on plants and grass, which dripped from the rock as he made his way to the window.”

Gail grasped his arm. “There’s more over here.” Leading him closer to the house, she stopped to the left of the living room window. She aimed her flashlight at the ground below where more yellow flags made a haphazard pattern. “See the footprints. They’re not very distinct, but there are several of them. The same footwear, maybe a work boot, but in different positions as if he shuffled his feet as he stood here. Cheryl said she’ll try to cast one, but didn’t have much hope. She did say she’d take soil samples to match when we get a suspect, if we are lucky enough to find the boots he wore tonight.”

Standing next to her, Cameron could see the Lucas living room in its entirety through 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 he was pranking was in the front room, close enough to nab him. Your rock thrower was careful, he wore gloves so he wouldn’t leave any prints. He was organized, he brought the blood with him, but he knew where to find the ideal rock in your landscaping. He was sending you and Bradley a message. Any idea what that was?”

“No.”

Cameron shot her a warning look she couldn’t miss. “I don’t believe you, Tisha. I think you know exactly what your vandal was trying to communicate. In fact, I think he’s already contacted you. Hasn’t he?”

She simply nodded, eyes hauntingly dark with some unnamed emotion. Obviously Tisha was still shaken by what was written on the paper that she pulled out of her pocket and handed to him.