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What else would it be?
Who knows, he might think you’re a hooker looking for a new territory to start selling your wares.
Oh, shut up!
With pleasure. Just don’t come crying to me when you end up in the slammer.
There were times that Daphne wished her inner voice wasn’t as vocal. This was one of them—trust her own self to try to sabotage her sexual fantasies!
The past year had been exceedingly busy insofar as freelancing work was concerned, and because of that, Daphne was now in a state of sexual frustration she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She never had trouble finding a suitable partner to ease her lusts, and as she told the elusive sheriff, she wasn’t prone to shy away from pursuing a man for said needs.
Since Robert Gould, her ex-fiancé, had cheated on her with her best friend of over ten years, a couple of months after their engagement, Daphne had no interest in any relationship other than a physical one.
Love led to heartache. Once had been more than enough for her. Now, all that mattered and required all the energy she had was her career.
“And Sheriff Carter Scott checks all the boxes of the next man who the honor of fornicating with me is bestowed upon.” As the words floated back to her, she caught sight of the very man striding out onto the balcony of the Hines Mansion Bed & Breakfast. “Damn, he truly is one hunk of a man,” she murmured.
Hugging and kissing a gorgeous blonde wasn’t what Daphne wanted to witness at that moment, but there it was. He openly expressed his infatuation with the petite woman.
“Damn, he’s taken. What a pity.” She might be a femme fatale, as he claimed, when the circumstances demanded it, but she never interfered when a man was already committed to another. The all too fornicatable sheriff wasn’t available to scratch that itch deep inside her, after all.
“Ah, well,” she sighed dramatically and muttered sotto voce. “I guess you win some, and you lose some. Hopefully, I’ll have better luck with the next hunk I meet.”
Suddenly, the scrumptious breakfast lost all its appeal.
Chapter Five
“Okay, Sydney, spill. Who’s the bastard they locked up last night?” Daphne placed the call on speaker as she scanned the rest of the emails in her inbox. This one had immediately caught her eye. She had numerous sources who reported on all potential perpetrators that might be associated with the case she was investigating.
Sydney Kent was one of the more reliable hackers she had worked with over time. When he gave her intel, she knew she could trust its authenticity without concern of being scammed.
“His name is Baker Cowell. He was brought in on drunk and disorderly conduct. My source says he hasn’t been interrogated since the sheriff, who is investigating the same case you are working on, wanted him sobered up first.”
“What made him a person of interest in a sex ring case?”
“He’s listed on the sex offender list. Apparently, there have been numerous sightings and charges laid against him after he was added, but none ever stuck. He was never officially charged or ended up in court.”
“Are you saying none of those claims were ever investigated?”
“Oh, the detectives went through all the motions, but for some reason, every single case was thrown out. Either the docket disappeared, evidence was tampered with, or the person who laid the charge withdrew the case. In every instance, he was released within hours of being arrested. Huge red flag here, Chicca.”
“You’re right, and certainly worth looking into. It seems I’ll be staying in Provo a little longer than intended.”
“Good, because I managed to decrypt the IP address where your anonymous tip about the child sex ring came from.”
Daphne’s interest was piqued. That the investigation she was busy with started around the same time as when the Utah County Sheriff’s office commenced digging into the exact case had been pure coincidence—or so she had thought—until that anonymous email. The pen in her hand did a rat-a-tat rhythm on the desk.
“Do tell.”
“It came from the Utah County’s office.”
Daphne turned cold. “Can you be more specific, Sydney? Did it come from someone at the Utah County’s office, or...”
“Nope, it came from the man himself. The email was sent from Utah County Attorney Bob McCarthy’s laptop, the location at the time—from his office.”
“Holy freaking shit,” Daphne exhaled slowly.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Sydney’s voice carried a twinge of caution.
