Temptation Trails - Page 173

There weren’t just the letters. He’d sketched it out—literally. He wasn’t exactly a skilled artist, but he wasn’t terrible. And the pictures he’d drawn were harrowing.

Let’s just say they depicted what he’d planned, complete with law enforcement discovering the grisly scene.

I’d never wanted to take the life of another person in the line of duty. But this guy? I had no regrets. The world was a better—and safer—place without him in it.

And he really had been behind it all. Or at least, most of it. He’d paid people to file the complaints, although the one from Matt Rudolph had just been bad timing. He’d never actually filed his and had apologized later. I’d told him no hard feelings.

Phillip had tampered with evidence and with my reports and recommended against prosecuting Trent Jones. Just another way to make me look bad—cast doubt in the minds of my superiors.

He’d also written about his break-in at Harper’s house. How he’d decided to reenact the events of his first murder to make me believe she was his intended victim. He’d wanted me scared, panicked that someone was after her. And he’d watched it all from afar, gloating the entire time.

It was no surprise to read that he’d been behind the incident at Rich Pine’s. Nor that Rich had no idea someone would use an old freezer in one of his outbuildings to hold a victim hostage. Phillip had simply seen an opportunity—Rich was often out of town and his property was fairly isolated.

I’d been right about Jasmine and the root cellar. He had killed her there. According to his letters, he’d originally planned to kill me there, but changed his mind when he decided to kill Harper too. He’d wanted more space, and a place he thought would hold me while he enacted the rest of his sick plan.

Reading his words was as vindicating as it was disturbing. And the rest of his letters would help the FBI in their investigations of his other crimes.

But really, I was just glad the ordeal was over. I was ready to move on.

I left the evidence and walked away from it, literally and symbolically leaving Phillip Lancaster and all his evil behind.

Besides, I still had a job to do. The people of our town still counted on me and my entire agency to ensure their safety.

I went back to my desk and found a white envelope with my name handwritten on the outside. That was odd. No stamp, so someone must have dropped it off. Inside was a short letter in the same handwriting. My brow furrowed as I read it.

Deputy Haven,

I just wanted you to know, I get it. It wasn’t personal. You were just doing your job.

I checked in to treatment. My girlfriend is having a baby and I don’t want my kid growing up like I did.

Thanks for not breaking my nose or something last time you arrested me.

Trent Jones

I stared at the letter for a long moment. It was short, but profound. I really hoped Trent completed his treatment program and started getting his life together. Despite our history, I’d be the first one to cheer him on. And not just for his sake. For his child.

Looked like impending fatherhood was doing a lot of good for Trent. That made me smile.

My first day back on the job wound up being pleasantly normal. I’d assisted on a squirrel call—they were getting into the Timberbeast again—had a good informal chat with some members of the SPS, and literally helped a little old lady cross a street.

Life wasn’t always simpler in a small town, but I’d never take it for granted when it was.

I went home and found Owen on the couch—mostly his knees sticking up. He was wearing headphones and, by the look of it, playing a game on his phone. Hesitating in the hallway, I watched him for a moment. I loved that kid so much.

Not for the first time, I wondered if I had it in me to be a father to another child. Could I love the tiny one with this same intensity? With my whole heart?

Time would tell. But if loving Harper had taught me anything, it was that I tended to underestimate love. Before her, I wouldn’t have thought I had it in me to love a woman as much as I loved Harper.

But love had smacked me upside the head. And thank goodness it had. So maybe I didn’t need to worry that my heart wouldn’t be big enough for another child. It always made room.

Seemed like love wanted to grow.

Owen looked up and noticed me. He pulled off his headphones and sat up straighter. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, bud.”

“Done with work?”