Death Deserved (A Detective Jackson Mystery) by L.J. Sellers Read Free Book Online Page B

over the sheriff’s radio. They sent out a deputy, but only as a backup.”
    Good . That meant the Eugene Police Department was handling the case. “When did it happen?”
    “This morning sometime.”
    “Anything else?”
    “One of the victims was taken to the hospital, and the body wagon showed up later for the other one. That’s all I know.”
    “You said River Loop 2. Do you have an address?”
    “No, but if it’s not in the sheriff’s jurisdiction, it has to be close in.”
    Not necessarily. Scattered pockets of Santa Clara were part of the city and therefore EPD responsibility, but they extended throughout the subdivisions halfway to Junction City. “Thanks, Earl. I owe you.” She would send the old guy some basketball tickets or maybe a gift certificate for a steak dinner. He was one of the few locals still monitoring radio frequencies. A few years earlier, the EPD had started scrambling its radio communications so citizens—including criminals—couldn’t listen in. Since Sophie was a reporter who covered courts and crime, that had made her job harder, but she’d finally developed relationships with sources within the department who would give her basic information on a daily basis.
    Sophie called Brian Edward, the paper’s crime photographer, and left a message. After grabbing her purse and jacket, she dug out the big camera in case Brian was busy and didn’t show. She hurried out of her workspace without bothering to turn off her computer.
    “Hey, that’s sounds like a live one,” her cube neighbor called out.
    Sophie paused and turned back to be friendly. “A double shooting, with one survivor.”
    “Another murder?” The middle-aged editor cringed. “This town is getting crazy.”
    “A record year for homicides.” Sophie was eager to get moving.
    “By the way, I love that red jacket,” the editor said. “Most redheads never wear red, but you pull it off.”
    “Thanks. I’ve gotta run.” She strode down the stairs, wondering if the black knee-high boots were overkill. She’d started wearing them after watching a few seasons of The Good Wife inspired by the role of the investigator. She related to Kalinda and had a lot in common with her, including bisexuality and physical size. But where the actress was a dark beauty, Sophie was all ginger and freckles.
    As she trotted across the parking lot, she said her daily gratitude for still having a journalism job in this weird little city she’d grown to love. Hundreds of others at the paper had been laid off, and she’d almost been pushed out of her crime beat recently to make room for a fresh-out-of-college intern who would have cost half her salary and benefits. But she’d helped the detectives catch a sexual predator, and the police department had supported her by refusing to work with anyone else on the newspaper staff. Her boss had backed down and let her continue covering the stories she excelled at. No one at the paper took their job for granted though. Every day, they braced themselves for the announcement that it would be their last.
    She climbed into her funky Scion and drove toward River Road, pushing the speed limit. With any luck, detectives or technicians would still be at the scene. Not that anyone would answer her questions today, but she might get decent photos or a statement from a neighbor. Her body hummed with excitement. She rarely got to see crime scenes while they were still active. Jasmine would probably be there, but Sophie would stay away from her. No one in the Public Safety Department knew they were dating, and they had to keep it that way. For now.
    After passing Wilkes Drive, she drove slowly, watching for the River Loop 2 sign. She’d been in Eugene only eight years and still didn’t know the Santa Clara area well. She’d moved here from New Mexico to attend the University of Oregon, then landed a job at the newspaper. She was still in limbo about whether she would stay in Oregon once the paper went out of