“… so was he trying to kill us? The two of us?” Debra asked, both hands holding a cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup in front of her and trying to act brave. But the cup was shaking ever so slightly, and Debra’s face was decidedly pale.
“Not kill you. If he wanted you two dead you wouldn’t have seen it coming. He just wanted to make a statement. A couple of statements actually. To you and to your publisher,” Lieutenant Yankovich answered softly beside me. “Kill the investigative story you two are working on and everything will be okay. If not…”
“What was the second statement?” Clark asked in a whisper.
“That one was aimed at us,” Yank growled with a frown on his face. “He told us eloquently he knew what he was doing, and we couldn’t do a damn thing about it. A quite effective mode of comm
