Page 2 of Seven Deadly Sins

Her head snapped up. “You could say that. Why?”

He turned his cell phone to face her. “Got another message. The perp has my cell number. This one says, there are seven deadly sins, but many who are involved in each one. Mr. Richardson is only the beginning.”

“He’s targeting people he thinks are committing sins?” She widened her eyes. “That is…everyone.”

“Makes our job harder. Let’s head back to the station and start a case board.” Without waiting for her to follow, he turned and left.

Harper’s knees weakened. She knew the seven deadly sins and had committed more than a few of them herself. Was this why the perp chose to send the messages to her? Did he know her past?

~

Liam followed the pretty detective’s royal-blue jeep to the police station. He’d noticed the fear shadow her dark eyes when he’d read the last message out loud. Was she the primary target?

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. At first, he’d thought maybe the perp could be someone with a grudge against Liam because he’d served justice on someone dear to them. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

After the third message received early that morning suggested Liam head to Oakdale and telling him about a dead guy with a message painted on the wall in blood, he’d approached his director about heading to Oakdale to work with local law enforcement. He hadn’t expected to discover the detective receiving messages also.

He frowned. Why bring Liam to Oakdale? Was there something connecting him to Harper? He shrugged. The pieces would all click together in time. The detective was correct, though. Most, if not everyone, committed at least one of the deadly sins on a regular basis, making it virtually impossible to narrow down the identity of the next victim. Liam hated feeling helpless.

The jeep pulled behind the one-story metal building and parked in back. A shapely leg, followed by a tall body with parts in all the right places, emerged from the vehicle. Liam had noticed Harper’s beauty at the crime scene, but now he allowed himself a few minutes to appreciate the sight in front of him. Once he got out of his car, things would be strictly business between the two of them.

She glanced at him and jerked her head toward the building in a clear signal for him to get out and join her. Gladly. Leaving his jacket in the car, he got out and locked the door. “Hopefully, you’ve a desk I can use.”

“There’s an extra one in my office. The other detective retired recently. We haven’t got a replacement yet.” She didn’t wait for Liam to hold the door open for her and entered ahead of him.

A middle-aged woman glanced up from the reception desk. “You’ve some messages on your desk, Detective.”

“Thank you, Myrna. This is Special Agent, McConnell. He’s working the Richardson case with me.”

Liam smiled. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.” He followed Harper through the bullpen and into a small office with a large glass window. Across from her office was one more, empty at the moment, home to the station’s chief. “I knew your station was small, but had no idea it was this small.”

“Which is why, despite my prickliness earlier, I’m grateful for your help.” She removed her jacket, revealing a simple white, long-sleeved blouse. “Make yourself comfortable.” She motioned to one of the desks. “I use this wall as my case board. It’s convenient and easier than heading to the conference room where things might get moved around.”

The only things taped there were three index cards. Liam stepped in front of them. “Not the original messages?” The writing looked feminine.

“No, those are bagged. I copied them.” She sat at her desk. “I’ll print off the photos I took, then we can tape them up. Maybe get a feel of what this guy is thinking.”

Liam nodded, his attention on the messages. The last one she’d received mentioned playing a game. Murder wasn’t a game he wanted to play.

The others merely talked about the dangers of a prideful heart. “We need to dig into Richardson’s lifestyle, his background, find out if he’s the trigger behind the perp’s act. We need to know whether he’s the first victim or if there are others we don’t know about.”

“We could visit one of the establishments he owns. Several bars in Harrington, a strip club, and he frequents the country club there a lot. At least according to the papers.” She retrieved the printed photos from the printer and handed them to him. “I say the strip club might be a good place to start considering the removal of the victim’s clothes.”

Liam tapped a finger against one of the photos. The indentation of what could have been a buckle showed on the back of the man's neck.“Looks like he might have worn a collar.”

“As in the S & M kind?” Her eyes widened. “Our perp might be female in that case.”

“Would explain the reason there were no signs of a struggle.” Liam heaved a sigh. “Could be a stripper, could be a high society woman. Could be the barista down the street for all we know.”

“This all sounds more like lust than pride.” She perched on the corner of her desk and crossed her arms, her gaze focused on the photos.

“I have a feeling we’ll find out that Mr. Richardson fits all seven.” He sat at the desk assigned to him and typed into his phone. “Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, pride, envy, wrath.”

Her lips twisted. “If not all, then most. But, again, I only know what I’ve read in the papers. I’ve never met the man.” She returned to her desk and opened a laptop.

“Is there a hotel nearby? I didn’t have time to find a room.”

“Thirty minutes away on the outskirts of Harrington.” She wrote something on an index card. “Why not go check in, then text me where you’re staying? I’ll pick you up tonight at nine to hit the strip club.” She slid the index card across the desk. “My number.”