Nicole sat at the breakfast table with her tablet in front of her. In her left hand she held a bone china cup containing her breakfast tea as she controlled the screen with her right. On the screen was newspaper from her hometown. She maintained a subscription despite the miles.
It was the first morning in a long time that she could breathe. She smelled the strong black tea as if it was a new life but her reprieve was not to last long. Many would and did say terrible things about her but Nicole still had a heart and with everything else she might be, she was still a loving daughter.
For the last week the front page had been full of her father’s death and the grisly way they found him. Today it seemed something finally surpassed news of the preacher. Until she read further. The lead story was all about some smash and grab artist named Peter. Local man steals unusual rare collection, the headline screamed. Nicole kept reading.
A local homeless man, Peter last name unknown, broke into the local bookstore, Rare Finds, late last night. Responding to the silent alarm police found the store empty and barely disturbed. The only objects removed a collection of handwritten, leather bound tomes from a local preacher who was murdered two weeks ago. An unknown party illegally sold the books, religious texts of questionable worth and obscure origin, to the shop shortly after the death. When found the suspect did not have the books in his possession and gave no indication to their location. When asked why he stole those volumes Peter replied, “I did it for the daughter. I just want to be her best friend.”
Nicole jerked back. Those books were meant for her. Her father’s original work on the prophecy was now in the hands of a degenerate. Well, not in his hands exactly. She pushed the tablet aside and took up her phone. She dialed Chester.
“We have a problem.”
He informed her he already knew about it and made a call.
“Were you able to speak with him?”
He sighed as he explained that two other men bailed the man out earlier in the day. The bum had already skipped town, presumably with the texts.
“So we have another player joining those two idiots.”
Chester agreed that it seemed that way.
“What about this thing he said? Do you think he might be or want to be on our side? Why else would he want to be my best friend?”
He was sure he didn’t know but he had a couple of ideas.
“Me being hot is only a reason for you. Get home, we need to start finding our enemies. How dangerous is this Peter, do you think?”
That was a question nobody had an answer for. Not yet anyway.
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