Her Dying Breath by Rita Herron Read Free Book Online

investigation.”
    She lifted her chin in challenge but nodded. “Don’t worry, Nick. I won’t interfere. In fact, I’m probably going to be an asset.”
    He mumbled something ugly beneath his breath. No reporter was ever an asset. “More like a thorn in my side.”
    “Deal with it. For some reason this killer sent a text to me, not you.” Brenda started toward the bathroom to take more photos.
    Nick stepped in front of her, using the fact that he towered over her to intimidate her. “After we’re done processing, you get your chance. You might contaminate the evidence.”
    Brenda gave him a saccharine smile. Apparently she didn’t intimidate easily. “Come on, Nick, I might grow on you if you give me a chance.”
    He glared at her, then ordered her back to the doorway.
    “Fine,” Brenda said. “But I am calling my cameraman. We can take shots of the outside of the motel.”
    He wanted to wring her neck, but she disappeared out the door, and he used his own phone to snap some photographs.
    Jake’s squad car zoomed up and barreled to a stop, the sound of doors slamming echoing from the street. Secondslater, his brother and his deputy, Mike Waterstone, appeared in the doorway.
    “The crime unit will be here any minute,” Jake said as his gaze raked across the scene. “Jesus. Have you identified the victim?”
    “No, no clothes or wallet,” Nick said.
    Deputy Waterstone appeared behind him. “Shit,” Waterstone said as he spotted the dead man tied to the bed. “Are you sure this was murder? Some people are into this kinky sex. Maybe it just got out of hand.”
    “It’s possible, except that Brenda received a text telling her to come here. That she’d find a present for the Commander.”
    “Some sick bitch,” Waterstone muttered.
    Which made him wonder if the killer had been one of his father’s subjects. Of course, other people were also incensed over what his father had done. Family members of victims, friends, anyone with a pulse. “Hopefully the ME can give us more information.”
    Jake cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to the motel manager, inform him we have a crime scene and find out who rented this room.”
    Nick turned to the deputy. “Waterstone, see who those vehicles in the parking lot belong to. We need to know if anyone saw anything.”
    “How about Brenda?” Jake asked. “She’s going to be a problem.”
    “For some reason the killer contacted her, probably wants Brenda to make her famous.”
    “Probably,” Jake agreed.
    “I gave her strict orders not to show any photos or reveal any details she hasn’t cleared with me.”
    “Good,” Jake said. “I didn’t see any security cameras when I drove up. But I’ll ask the manager. Maybe he has one at the check-in desk.”
    The sound of two more vehicles rumbled into the parking lot. First the crime unit. The other—Brenda’s news van.
    As if Slaughter Creek hadn’t suffered enough from the recent publicity.
    Now another circus would begin.

    Brenda met her cameraman, Louis Bellamy, at the news van. Now that the shock of finding the dead man was wearing off, her adrenaline had kicked in.
    The killer wanted Brenda to tell his or her story, and she intended to do that.
    “What’s up?” Louis asked as he hoisted his camera from the back of the van.
    “A murdered man in room seven.”
    Louis raised a brow. “How did you get here so quickly? Are you on the police scanner?”
    Brenda shook her head. “I can’t say just yet. Sheriff Jake Blackwood, his deputy, and Special Agent Nick Blackwood are on the scene. For the sake of the victim and until the family is notified, we can’t divulge details or photograph the inside of the room. But we can shoot some preliminary footage.”
    Dr. Barry Bullock, the medical examiner, parked and climbed from his vehicle, giving Brenda a look of disgust, then charged toward the motel room. She’d heard the man enjoyed his job a little too much, that he was obsessed with bugs and weird